The Warlock and The Trickster
by YaoiLord
Summary: On Harry's second year at Hogwarts, Merlin and Loki posed as the two new professors for the newly vacated positions of History and Defense Against the Dark Arts. A three way crossover of Harry Potter/BBC Merlin/MCU Thor Movies.
1. The Warlock and The Trickster

Will follow the flow of Harry Potter Chamber of Secrets book. Merlin and Loki will take on the same appearance as in the BBC Merlin and MCU Loki, but Loki's abilities are based on the Norse Mythology and MCU combined. Multiple POVs. Some dialogs taken exactly from the book.

 **Disclaimer:** Characters associated are not mine and belong to their respective owners.

* * *

There were hushed whispers and excited giggles that erupted once the students filled the hall for the feast.

"Do you see him? That one on Professor Snape's left? Those are incredible green eyes."

"True, but have you looked to the person next to him? Those _blue_ eyes are beautiful," a girl from Ravenclaw said rather loudly. "But, yes, you have a point. You know what? They're both good looking."

There were dreamy sighs that followed.

The Ravenclaw head girl cleared her throat to shush them down, though not without sparing a smitten glance herself to the said two men sitting with the faculty members.

Let it be said that female students (and some would argue a handful of male students as well) were washed over with a spell that turned them like _lovesick_ _fools_ (as some boys from Slytherin muttered under their breath) the moment their eyes landed on the staff table.

The sorting was done in the same fashion last year when the present second years were freshmen themselves. It wasn't long when Dumbledore began introducing the two new addition to the faculty—the bit the girls were waiting for, and the bit most boys disliked because of the girls' excitement, but at the same time excited for since it meant feast afterwards.

"For this term we have two teachers who will be joining us," Dumbledore started. "At Professor Binns unexpected retirement, we have Professor William Gaius Emrys to fill his vacant slot."

The male with striking blue eyes stood, giving a short friendly wave and a smile that had, again, most girls and some boys murmur in anticipation for the end of boring history classes (in their opinion though, the subject was unexciting as it came; still, they would give the new professor a chance).

"As for our newly vacated position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, we have Professor Loki Odinson for this term," the Headmaster continued.

The man beside Professor Emrys stood alongside the latter. Professor Loki was the person with emerald eyes, looking at the student body with an indescribable gaze before flashing a brief smirk. Not far to his left was Professor Snape who didn't appreciate having the position snatched from under his nose again.

A boy from Gryffindor, probably Seamus, scrunched his nose in confusion, turning to Dean. "What's up with their names?"

Dean shrugged, though indeed those were some weird names. Emrys sounded familiar, and if he wasn't mistaken a name related to the legendary Merlin. The name Loki Odinson was just as uncommon, and he didn't know where he might have heard it from. Neville turned to Hermione to ask, only to decide against it after seeing her positively taken to either which of the new professors— _could be both_ —but at the same time concerned that Harry and Ron were yet to arrive.

She set aside her worry, thinking they were likely held up by some personal matters. Besides, Mr. Weasley would bring the two himself to Hogwarts in case they didn't catch the train. Instead, she focused her attention to the new instructors. She felt the eagerness to prove herself, seeing as Professor Emrys and Professor Loki, albeit looking young, appeared to be just as no nonsense like the other members of the faculty.

Hermione smiled to herself. She would start tonight her advanced reading on the History textbook.

…

As the feast wore on, it seemed as if only the two professors were unaware of their effects to the students.

* * *

Merlin nervously pulled at the hem of his sweatshirt.

It was ridiculous really, how somebody like him who has been around for centuries could be this anxious. He had been in front of important people, gave advice to kings and queens, and yet teaching young wizards and witches was making him jittery. He did it before, but in a less systematic manner; nevertheless, he had been a teacher once that he shouldn't be feeling this way.

Part of it, he realized, was fearing he would fail, that there would be a single student who would end up either another Morgana or another Mordred; worse, both. Merlin's comfort was the world of magic of the current generation. Perhaps it was too much to hope that magic and non-magic would coexist in a single world, but the proper separation of their worlds was enough of a progress. Besides, this also benefited both parties in terms of independent growth, with magic existing on a place where it could breed and run freely.

As the second year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindor poured in, Merlin waited with bated breath until the class settled down on their seats.

"Good morning, class. I'm Professor Emrys and I'll be handling your History of Magic."

It wasn't long for his nervousness to come to pass as the students attentively answered his questions as he gauged what they learned so far.

At the same time, he idly wondered if the God of Mischief was having the same enthusiasm Merlin has.

…

Loki was unimpressed at the simplicity of Midgardian magic. Staring at the poor excuse of a wand on his hand, he scoffed at how primitive the sorcery of Earth that the people who could actually wield it still required a conduit to harness its capabilities. He supposed it was expected of them, as so far he had seen only the strongest of their kind could perform sorcery without any wand.

The very same person happened to be at Hogwarts as well and was enjoying his stay as a young instructor of the plain history of Midgardian Sorcery, claiming it has always been a dream of his. Admittedly, it was akin to retelling what you have seen, and Merlin certainly experienced most, if not all, in the books.

When Loki landed on Midgard out of a whim, he had been drawn immediately to the strong force that seemed to be bounded on Midgard itself. To his surprise, it was contained in a vessel of a nondescript young man who dressed no better than a manservant. There was an instant spark of connection between them at their first encounter; the man sensing Loki instantly as an otherworldly being, and Loki in turn sensed that this was no ordinary Midgardian.

This human, Merlin, being an immortal was far from what Loki expected.

There was a sincere smile that broke from Merlin then, completely trampling the tension between them after he deemed Loki not a hostile entity.

It moved forward from there.

The Midgardian Sorcerer was the closest to a friend that Loki has—Thor's friends were never his friends—not that he would admit it aloud, of course. Merlin has a terrible habit of teasing and would highly likely not put it down for at least a century.

Merlin became a reason that wasn't merely a whim to have trips to Midgard. He found another being he could closely relate to in the last place he expected within the Nine Realms. Consequently, Merlin also found a friend in a being he wouldn't consider before—an alien.

How they came to be never became a subject on their conversations that mostly consisted of politics and wonders of their respective planets. Asgard was an interest of Merlin, more so was the idea of other worlds out there. In return, he would interest Loki on parts of Midgard that were never or hardly ventured, places where Midgardians avoid usually. A specific location Loki had taken a liking was the one they called Devil's Triangle, an area in an ocean which they both found out an entrance to a pocket dimension that was annually opening twice or thrice. Whenever the entrance was opened, there would be a strong whirlpool sucking down whoever or whatever was crossing it.

The journey wasn't as grand as Thor and his friends', but the adventure was one of most memorable to Loki in all the years he lived.

At the moment, Merlin's interest was posing as a teacher to children. He asked for Loki to humor him and said that it would be like another adventure of theirs, only more grounded than what they usually partake in. The trickster knew better. It wasn't a mere tagging along but rather a call for a trusted ally in case of a dire situation. Loki's senses weren't fooled either, feeling the thrum of dark magic residing in this particular half of Midgard. It wasn't highly active, nor lying dormant. Having the same apprehension, Merlin took it upon himself to protect those who could be in need.

It led them to this school, where a concentration of malice seemed to be directed on. Despite it, Loki noticed that Merlin was relieved to find it heavily warded than it appeared, though to be fully assured of the security, Merlin decided to plant the both of them among the unsuspecting Midgardians.

They even went as far as to "demonstrate" in front of the faculty, which was hardly needed when he and Merlin were way more experienced than these old men and women. Merlin told him it was only logical as they were trying for teaching positions, jobs where they would earn payment for their services. Loki realized that it would be actually tedious, though he relented seeing Merlin gave a brief lecture on history of Old Magic that had the faculty interested, especially when Merlin also performed what they called _wandless_ magic. It was the most basic of spell that was akin to flicking a switch in terms of difficulty for the both of them, but it had the faculty lean in interest. Loki deemed it more than enough to secure Merlin the position, if the name he gave, William Gaius Emrys, didn't earn him recognition yet.

The God of Mischief took the other vacant position and followed Merlin's example, giving a lecture on the Dark Arts. Midgard's version of dark magic wasn't far from what the dark elves practice during Malekith's rule, and Loki was learned of them. On a test given by the Headmaster—a requirement to be passed by those applying for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor—Loki casted a simple shielding spell that held strongly against five kinds of hexes. There were murmurs of appreciation at his usage of only one spell without even a wand. Assured that he was already secured for the position, Loki was asked by the Headmaster if he happened to also be knowledgeable in physical combat which earned surprised looks from his fellow staff. Loki admitted that he was skilled with knives and a few choice of weapons, and this seemed to be an answer the Headmaster was looking for, proceeding to congratulate him and Merlin, welcoming them to the faculty.

At the beam Merlin threw his way, Loki completely missed the Headmaster's eyes twinkling at the two of them.

Presently, when the students of houses Slytherin and Ravenclaw flooded in and he told them that they would proceed to a practical approach on the subject by asking them to follow him to a wider classroom, Loki's lips pursed to a smirk.

He might as well enjoy this while it lasted.

* * *

By supper, the students regaled stories of their first class in History and DADA, both subjects which the students of four houses could generally agree that they enjoyed.

There were those who recounted the lecture on dragons by Professor Emrys as part of the introduction to the topic of Old Religion. Hermione has been more rapt than ever as Professor Binns hardly covered the topic. This lead to her more extensive research in the library of Hogwarts. After discovering that dragons were intelligent creatures who used to be capable of speaking at the time of King Arthur and Merlin, most students became curious and asked why this was no longer the case. Professor Emrys answered that those kind of dragons had been long extinct, replaced with the dragons they knew today. The young professor even included the gamekeeper, Hagrid, saying the half-giant was more knowledgeable of the dragons of the current era and would probably be glad if he were to be asked a thing or two about them since Hagrid has soft spot for such. Harry was surprised that Hagrid was mentioned by a professor, no less, who seemed to appreciate the gentle giant's fondness for magical creatures that were considered by most dangerous. Harry remembered Norbert last year and he wondered if he was in Romania now with most of his kind.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts had been tiring after Professor Loki not only taught them at least three basic shielding spells, but also a few basic movements on fencing. Although they had no idea that physical defense would be entailed in the current term, the students were too pumped with adrenaline to care. They only used long and thin wooden sticks for now (safety precautions), and they had been sweaty and their muscles ached by evening but it was worth it. As Professor Loki said, a wizard was only useful with his wand. The physical defense (and offense) were quite as useful as magic _—Most wizards are still vulnerable to steel_ , Professor Loki reminded them.

Overall, it was a promising start of the term.

The feast hall was packed with students, with the faculty following suit in random succession. Professor Loki and Professor Emrys were the third to arrive after Professor McGonagall. Their arrival garnered interests once again that only doubled after they displayed their teaching expertise. Even some of the male students who were annoyed the previous night by the professors' effect on the females had joined the recounting of the lecture with Dean and Seamus.

Hermione, on the other hand, broke her reverie with startled blinks when her plate suddenly produced food. She blushed in embarrassment when Harry caught her staring at both professors.

"Well, I can't help it. They're both fascinating," she retorted at Harry's silence. She picked at her food. "And they _know_ how to keep the class interesting."

Harry nodded. "They do, don't they? I mean, I thought History would be as bad as Professor Binns'."

She hummed noncommittally, looking at where the faculty was. Professor Snape had joined. "You know, interestingly, I decided to look on to something when Seamus mentioned their names being er… weird."

"Dean mentioned that the name Emrys was associated to Merlin," Harry recalled. "Could they be related by any chance?"

"It's the odd thing, you see. Merlin doesn't have a recorded family tree, so we don't really know if he has descendants."

"Can't it be that Emrys is an actual family name then? It used to be the case for Muggles, right? Taking a name and making it a surname when the names stopped being only first names."

"You're right," she relented. "Though you have to admit it's quite an uncommon name. Emrys. A name recorded to have been solely used by the greatest wizard." She perked up, suddenly remembering something. "Oh, but you know what, Harry? It's Professor Loki's name that is quite unique." For some reason, Professor Loki preferred to be called by his given name instead of Odinson.

"And why's that?"

"Loki was a name from Norse Mythology. He was the God of Mischief, and brother of Thor, the Norse God of Thunder. Loki was a sorcerer and the brains to his brother's brawn. He could shapeshift and was adept in illusions."

 _That's…_ "A god?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Remember Greece having a set of their own, right? Since their religion is polytheistic. Scandinavian countries have their own set too. Oh, their own mythology is interesting, Harry. You'll learn a lot! Maybe next time you and Ron can come with me at the library to browse books."

Harry couldn't say no to her enthusiasm, making him nod absently in agreement. It must be fun having an uncommon name, seeing his was as common as Michaels and Johns. Not that Harry minded though. At least he wouldn't have people like Hermione researching his family's backstory and origins.

A thought came unbidden to Harry when his eyes darted to Professor Emrys and Professor Loki who were both engaged in a conversation. A quite farfetched, although entertaining, idea formed in Harry's mind.

 _What if?_

Professor Emrys, who was also talking with Professor Sprout in sidelines, paused shortly as if sensing eyes on him. His blue eyes followed a direction that lead straight to Harry's curious gaze.

When Harry didn't break the eye contact, Professor Emrys offered an odd smile that wasn't too happy.

* * *

Merlin exhaled. "I think I know now where to—or rather, who to." When Loki raised an eyebrow, Merlin elaborated, "You do know it's the amount of dark magic that is piled in this place is what lead us here. I know now why and who it leads to."

"One of them?" Loki gestured to the body of students, guessing correctly. They kept their voices down to not be overheard.

"Yes." Merlin pushed away his plate, appetite gone. "It's him. The student they called The Boy Who Lived."

Merlin wasn't unfamiliar with the story: Voldemort murdering a married couple and was going for their son of barely a year old. Without knowing it, the boy, Harry Potter, became famous after the Dark Lord was said to be destroyed by him, and Harry surviving the killing curse and sporting a mere scar in the forehead as a mark for it. Merlin himself was equally fascinated and saddened by the story. Saddened for a boy so young losing both of his parents, as well as a godfather who went to Azkaban after the tragedy, resulting to a newly orphaned Harry to be given to relatives who hardly knew he existed. It was as if Harry Potter lost two families at once. On the other hand, Merlin was fascinated at the Old magic invoked accidentally by the boy's mother. He hadn't known it was possible for another person other than him to do so. The magic served its purpose well with its effect on Harry consistently protecting him like an invincible blanket.

Although, there was also something baffling that continued to linger around Harry as well that was akin to a residue not removed. A residue of something powerful and unkind. Merlin feared it was Voldemort's own way of leaving his stain on the boy.

At the sudden spike of it, his theory was confirmed.

…

Loki regarded the way Merlin's fingers were clenched on his table napkin.

"He's sick," Merlin said unbelievingly, voice hoarse in a whisper.

The trickster didn't have to know who Merlin meant. There was only a single lot the Midgardian Sorcerer has no love for.

"Tell me more," Loki requested, directing Merlin away from the hall after he excused them both from the supper.

As he listened to Merlin telling him a tragic story of a family broken by this Dark Lord Voldemort, Loki realized that Merlin was beyond frustration and anger. It was fear; fear for the boy who happened to be their student; fear for Harry who would be targeted by the Dark Lord. He might be inactive for the moment but whose likes were not to stay hidden for long. Merlin was so sure that Voldemort would rise again to finish what he started.

Merlin recounted the lives lost because of the evil of men, and that Voldemort was just as terrible as Morgana, Mordred, Nimueh, Morgause, and many more he could vividly remember. And Merlin had seen those lot rise and fall in his years alive.

It didn't take long for Loki to recognize that Merlin already made up his mind on the matter, only that Merlin himself had to be nudged in that direction.

"Your instincts tell you to protect this boy, this school, and the people in it, as well as go after this awakening Dark Lord… Even if it's not your battle." Loki's lips twitched, either at how he seemed to have known Merlin too well to read him easily, or at Merlin's impulsiveness, he didn't know.

"Yes," Merlin said firmly. "It's my purpose to protect."

"Your late king, yes. The whole humanity, no."

"Then what am I to do? Bask in this immortality that I never asked for?" Merlin snapped.

"No, but never feel responsible for anything that turned out wrong. These people are not your obligation that you're willing to jeopardize your safety for them. You are an immortal against the natural causes, but steel and magic stronger than yours can still fell you."

Merlin appeared to have a lot to say to that, like saying he was getting tired of waiting for someone to rise that he began doubting the possibility of it, that he might as well had followed Arthur in the afterlife—to name one.

Instead, Merlin sighed and looked at Loki with determined eyes. "I won't die. Besides, I don't think you'll let me anyway." He gave a wry grin, easing the growing tension in a snap.

He continued, sidling closer to Loki's side. "Won't let your Midgardian friend leave you, right?" He gave the trickster a soft elbowing.

Loki scoffed, making Merlin giggle, with the thought of the Dark Lord and the boy put aside for the meantime.

Of course Loki wouldn't let Merlin die.

* * *

On the following day Merlin found himself free for three hours, he tasked himself into wandering the halls of Hogwarts. It has been a while since he had been here, and it was true that he had seven years as a Slytherin student to have a bit of lurking around, and another seven as a Ravenclaw student, though that was mostly in the dungeons, and the Ravenclaw Tower. As a professor, he has a more definitive excuse for wandering around in different house territories. Perhaps during the middle of the night, he could tag Loki along to acclimate the God of Mischief in the castle.

Merlin barely passed the Quidditch field when he heard a loud bang, followed by retching sounds and raucous laughter.

As he came closer, he found out that the laughter came from a bunch of Slytherin students, presumably the Quidditch team about to practice. The painful retching sound, though, was by none other than Ronald Weasley, sitting up on the ground and vomiting slugs on his front, crowded by a handful of Gryffindor students, among which was Harry Potter.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked as the group parted for him when he immediately rushed beside Ron.

Ron would have answered if not for the incoming belch of another batch of slugs. The Slytherins stopped their guffaws when Merlin came to the scene, instead reducing themselves to sniggering at Ron's rather green face.

"Hagrid is nearer. It'll be best to bring him there for the meantime," Merlin told Harry and another of Ron's close friend, Hermione Granger. The two nodded and helped their friend on his feet, supporting him on their way to the gamekeeper's hut.

Meanwhile, Merlin turned to the others, asking a female witness from Gryffindor about what happened. He wasn't pleased when he heard the story. Merlin sighed, knowing this was bound to happen occasionally.

The Slytherins promptly shut up once Merlin's attention was on them. He pretended not to notice Malfoy's big gulp behind his defiant exterior.

"Can I talk to you, Mister Malfoy?" Merlin asked without a change in his tone. "Alone."

Draco glanced briefly to his clique before sending Merlin a scowl as he followed. Merlin didn't bring him to his office and settled for the nearest unmoving staircase where there were no students.

"What you said wasn't nice," Merlin began mildly, looking at the boy for any reaction. Draco merely grunted and glared at the floor, refusing to look up at Merlin.

"She deserves it," Draco sneered. "She insulted me by saying I became part of the team because I bought my way in!" He caught himself, ears turning red at the tips. It seemed as if Draco didn't believe he justified himself to a professor, and something told Merlin it never happened before.

"So even if you could have proven her wrong by showing you have the talent, you retaliated by insulting her back," Merlin concluded. "That word is never nice, Mister Malfoy. She can't help being Muggle-born and so do the people you also insulted when you mentioned that word out of spite."

"What, are you insulted too?" Draco retorted. It was without heat and resembling curiosity more than anything.

Merlin shook his head. "No, but if I was there to hear it, you would have insulted me. My mother wasn't a witch."

Draco frowned at the past tense but decided not to ask. "Your family name is Emrys. It sounds like Pure-blood's." Though when he thought about his homeschooling before Hogwarts, when he was tutored about the families of Pure-blooded wizards, he didn't recall Emrys being part of it. And he wondered now why it didn't when it was a name associated to the greatest wizard, Merlin.

Merlin gave a small smile as if reading Draco's mind. "Ah, yes, Emrys was a secondary name of Merlin, wasn't it?" He hummed in thought. "Did you know that Merlin was a half-blood too?" he continued. He grinned at the scoff Draco was sure to give. "His mother was a homely woman who lived in a small village miles away from Camelot. Merlin's father was a Dragon Lord who was on the run after King Uther banned the likes of him from his kingdom. It was when he stumbled upon Ealdor, where Merlin's mother lived, that they found each other."

Draco still refused to look at Merlin, though he was clearly listening intently.

"My point is, Draco, that if back then when magic was persecuted, bond between two opposite people persisted either way, why shouldn't it be now when magic exists freely and isn't only limited to those whose blood runs with it? Why can't we all stand in the same level, where none is above over the other? It'll be difficult to reach that stage but not impossible." Merlin crouched low, kneeling in front of the boy who seemed small then as he took in Merlin's words. "I know you grew up being taught of your worth as a Pure-blooded wizard, and while I don't fault your pride for being one, it doesn't mean that the others who are unlike you are automatically beneath you. You're young, Draco, and you have more to learn outside Hogwarts and your home. Know that you can be your own person and not someone living to anybody's standards and expectations." Merlin placed his hands on Draco's shoulders, squeezing them briefly. "You will be your own great person someday. I could feel it."

It wasn't a punishment, no—it was never Merlin's aim in the first place. He promised himself that he would try to fix the house rivalry if he could, seeing that the bit between Gryffindor and Slytherin was in dire need of it.

To teach the boy a lesson, Merlin deducted ten points to at least remind Draco that what happened wasn't fully disregarded. Though in Merlin's opinion, the minus points simply went over the boy's head as his mind reeled over what Merlin said.

* * *

Harry watched in sympathy as Ron pitifully emptied the slugs from inside him. Hagrid was right though; it could have been worse if Malfoy was the one puking slugs. Imagine Lucius Malfoy marching down Hogwarts and… Harry didn't want to think about it.

He was idly picking at the treacle fudge Hagrid offered earlier when there was a knock on the door. Hagrid stood and opened it to find Professor Emrys standing awkwardly.

"P-Professor Emrys!" Hagrid exclaimed, eyes darting worriedly around the state of his hut.

"Hello, Hagrid," Professor Emrys greeted politely. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Oh, no, professor. Of cours' not. Er… it's a bit untidy though," Hagrid mumbled, embarrassed.

"It's a home then," Professor Emrys said with a sincere smile. "Hello, Mister Potter and Miss Granger," he said when he noticed the two. He turned to Ron with worry. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to go to Madame Pomfrey. I came here as soon as I had a talk with Mister Malfoy." Harry perked up at this, making the professor smile apologetically. "Though I have to clarify that I didn't gave him detention, and I only gave him a deduction from house points. What he said was disrespectful, yes, but it wasn't a just cause for a detention. I'm sorry."

Harry glumly stared at Ron who was occupied by his vomiting (the basin was half full then). He wondered if Professor Emrys was lying, that he was another person under Lucius Malfoy's thumbs. _Like Snape_ , he thought darkly. There were too many people against Harry's liking who didn't want to touch Malfoy because they were scared of Lucius. It was stupid.

"Tea, professor?" Hagrid offered, cutting through the depressing silence that ensued.

"It's alright, Hagrid. No need to trouble yourself. I came here to lift the curse from Mister Weasley." Professor Emrys went forward to where Ron has his head leaned on the basin.

Professor Emrys took out his wand and made a few swish until he pointed it at Ron. They all patiently waited for a few moments until Ron finally heaved a huge sigh of relief when his last belch was never again followed by another.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I turned over my stomach. My abdomen hurts."

Professor Emrys nodded. "Make sure to visit Madame Pomfrey first once you return. You're excused from my class for today." He turned to Harry and Hermione. "You two also."

"Oh, um, thanks, professor," Ron murmured weakly. "For the excuse and fixing me."

Professor Emrys chuckled. "It's the least I can do." He ruffled Ron's hair mildly. "You're a brave boy to stand up for your friend. I think that's enough to give Gryffindor twenty points," he added with a wink.

If it was possible, Ron turned a shade darker than his hair as Hermione looked back and forth between Ron and Professor Emrys in awe, while Hagrid was sitting at the background with a proud beam. Harry's mood lightened as he grinned at his friends.

He supposed he could take back what he thought about Professor Emrys. He didn't seem so bad after all.

But as they returned to Hogwarts to get Ron to the clinic, Harry wondered if he was the only one who noticed Professor Emrys's eyes glowing golden when he performed a wordless reverse spell.

* * *

October rolled like the mist of winter mornings of Asgard. Loki had not heard from Thor, or Heimdall, of any order from the Allfather to come back. There was a tiny voice in his head bitterly telling him that Odin hardly cared if he was gone for too long. It was the voice that has been part of him for centuries.

No news from Asgard was as good as any news from there though. He pushed the thought away, suddenly remembering with disgust the cake Merlin made and turned rotten. For the deathday celebration of one of the ghosts of Hogwarts, the warlock had said. Loki would never understand Merlin's fascination with the specters lurking around the castle. It wasn't as if spirits had never lived among Midgardians.

Merlin was planning to join the said celebration tonight, with the anticipation more than of the trio's the _nearly_ headless ghost invited. Initially, Merlin had accepted when he knew the student he was keeping an eye on would be there, but Loki suspected the reason that Merlin had never been invited to a deathday party—even when he posed as a student before—played the larger role in his acceptance.

Loki didn't join the Halloween feast the Midgard seemed to hold in high regard and was sitting by the windowsill with a tome from the library opened on his lap when he heard a hiss.

In his childhood years, he and his brother had taken care of snakes as pets which served more as Loki's friends. Liking snakes was what he and Thor have in common, therefore he knew a hiss of a snake when he heard it.

It was a distant sound echoing along the stone walls, and Loki could only guess where it was coming from. He stood up, straining his ears to hear farther until the hissing stopped. When it returned a few seconds later, he exited his room and followed the sound. As he walked on the candlelit corridors, the sound became louder… and louder…

Loki stopped in an empty hallway.

There was a glistening puddle of water on the floor, and on the wall to his left were foot-high words written with blood judging by the coppery smell.

 **THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED** _ **.**_ **ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**

Before Loki could make out the figure hanging underneath it, there came hurried footsteps of three people. From the other end of the corridor were the three students: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.

His eyes connected with Harry's that had Loki formed an inkling as to what the boy concluded after seeing Loki arriving first at the scene. Suspicion and fear clouded the young gaze, which the trickster caught in time before a swarm of students freshly from the feast came bounding to the location.

A voice read the message aloud, adding a degrading term that effectively crashed the silence. The caretaker elbowed his way past the throng, stopping in horror at the sight of what Loki realized was the cat that was always prowling around Hogwarts with the caretaker.

Accusations immediately flew across, with Filch demanding to see punishment. The Headmaster arrived with the other professors without Merlin. He calmly listened for a while, dissecting important bits and asked for the trio to follow him. The Headmaster asked to use Loki's office as it was the nearest.

Harry looked smaller and smaller under interrogation combined with Filch's sobs and would occasionally throw Loki glances that said the boy was considering telling that he saw Loki first at the scene. He held back, thinking of the possible repercussions of pointing a finger to a professor.

Loki commended the reign Harry has on his emotions. He wryly thought that a boy was displaying control far better than Thor.

"It wasn't any of them, I can assure you," Loki said after Harry's lame attempt of saying they were on their way to their beds. "I was here first and then shortly came Mister Potter, Miss Granger, and Mister Weasley."

Professor Snape's attention was turned to Loki, an eyebrow raised. "Well, that makes you the suspect, _professor_."

Loki was unfazed despite the title being told with a sneer. "That would mean I have to eliminate them as they were my witnesses, I suppose. Can't be seen vandalizing the walls and petrifying a cat," he countered coolly, much to Snape's ire.

"Oh, you two, will you quit it!" Professor McGonagall snapped at them both. "Professor Snape, this is now the time to accuse without proper facts. And Professor Loki, you're not helping by being sarcastic. This is no ordinary matter so please behave as adults." Her mind reeled back on the feast and remembered another person absent. "And where was Professor Emrys? We didn't see him tonight."

"At a deathday party," Loki answered disinterestedly.

"That's where we were from!" Harry explained, corroborated by his friends. Snape wasn't quite satisfied that it didn't made sense if they were on their way to the dormitory without stopping by the feast; deathday foods were not edible after all.

"We're not hungry!" Weasley retorted, punctuated with an undisguised stomach growl. Snape looked triumphant.

Loki watched Harry, noticing that the boy was hesitating to blurt out the truth as to why he came to the same place Loki ended up by following the hissing of a snake.

"Did you hear it too?" the trickster asked him. The boy's head snapped up to Loki in shock. "You heard the same sound, didn't you? That was why you were there. You followed it."

"I-I… I heard the voice," Harry admitted, swallowing. "I'm not the only one who heard it then."

Loki kept to himself first that it wasn't specifically a voice he heard, but he has the suspicion that they were both talking about the same thing either way.

"What does this voice said, Harry?" Dumbledore gently inquired.

"Bad things," Harry murmured. "L-Like it was going to eat. It kept saying it's hungry, and words like blood…eat…kill."

McGonagall kept her gasp at bay while Snape's expression hardened. They were quiet that even Filch stopped his crying.

Dumbledore addressed Loki, face maintaining an unreadable expression. "Are these also what you heard, professor?"

"No, I only heard hissing. Like that of a snake, only it sounded distant in the beginning and louder by the time I reached the corridor."

Dumbledore considered something for a moment. Whatever it was, he didn't share it. He sent the children to turn in for the day and gave Filch instructions to wait for Professor Sprout's Mandrakes to grow fully for the potion to cure the petrification; Loki had been correct in his assessment.

There were only the four of them left before Dumbledore asked Professors McGonagall and Snape to check on the students.

When it was finally the Headmaster and the God of Mischief alone, Dumbledore asked Loki, "Can you speak to snakes, Professor Loki?"

As far as Loki knew, it was an ability only when he shapeshifted into a snake. Loki shook his head. "I knew it was a snake because I've taken care of a number of them before. It was familiar, but, no, I couldn't speak to them directly. Nor any from my family that I know of," he added, seeing it was the follow-up question.

"I see. I suppose it means you have a set of impressive senses, if you can hear what we were not able to." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly behind his half-moon spectacles. "Good night, professor. Happy Halloween."

If there was one Loki underestimated the most, it must be the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

* * *

Merlin heard from the ghosts about what happened. Past midnight, he heard it straight from Loki.

"What of this chamber that they fear?" Loki curiously asked.

"Unfortunately, even I do not know what's in it. I was never in the year it was opened. When I first came in as a student, it was hardly mentioned. They knew it exists and that was all. The second time I entered as a student, I was a Ravenclaw. It was years after the Chamber of Secrets was opened that it became some sort of legend to scare off notorious students." Merlin vaguely remembered a certain group of boys from Gryffindor who were making a name for themselves in terms of mischief, never caring for rules and warnings, and would have ventured to the Chamber of Secrets themselves if they knew where exactly it was. It was good to be in Ravenclaw that time and not in Slytherin since that was the house who got the brunt of the pranks during that certain generation.

"Basing from what you said though, a large serpent maybe?" Merlin shrugged, half shuddering. "I must confess that I never encountered one, ever." It was quite disturbing that there happened to be a huge snake lurking in Hogwarts, undiscovered. Although, he was firm in believing Salazar Slytherin didn't hide the creature to murder unsuspecting students, rather it was there to serve as one of the many protections of Hogwarts. As for the single casualty, there had to be a definitive reason.

Merlin wasn't surprised when on his next class, Hermione Granger inquired about the Chamber of Secrets. She didn't expect Merlin to answer her fully though, as she thought he was young for a professor, but she had hopes that Merlin's parents, if ever, had attended Hogwarts by the time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and possibly past to their son some stories.

Merlin gave them what he could. He knew it wasn't best to leave them in the dark. Curiosity unsated bred more thirst to discover the unknown.

Unfortunately, Merlin didn't know that wasn't how easily it worked between Harry Potter and his friends.

Merlin kept an eye on the three who were last to leave the room. He was concerned at the three's tendencies for adventures that could turn to misadventures. While Merlin wasn't one quelling children spirits, he could only wish they were careful.

* * *

Loki begrudgingly settled beside Merlin. He wasn't a fan of sports, and he could be doing something else than watching children in broomsticks zipping around the field.

He relented to come along once Merlin began his teasing after seeing the trickster grading written, short examination papers. The students _did_ give their best efforts in putting into words what they learned in practice; the last thing Loki could do was to read all thoroughly and mark them accordingly. To Merlin, Loki was warming up to his teaching position and was being a good teacher by appreciating his students' works.

And so he was there, with a ridiculous, green knitted cap to support Slytherin while Merlin sported a red one for Gryffindor, although the latter whispered that he was actually betting for Slytherin, and Loki in turn could actually support Gryffindor despite the opposite colors they wore. Merlin mentioned not wanting to look bad to Harry, especially when he was personally looking out for Draco, who Merlin has taken a close watch, too, after giving the blond boy a talk on discrimination months ago.

There was a hint of rain that day, though Loki doubt it would stop the game. He endured through an hour of noise from all sides, as well as Merlin's sharp jabs on his side to urge him to clap whenever Slytherin scored. Merlin sat up on his seat every time there was a one-on-one between Draco and Harry on a different part of the field away from most players. From what Loki gathered, Draco was a newer player than Harry, though he wasn't faring that bad for a beginner. Merlin commented on the sidelines that they both have the talent for flying; Harry, who was greater by a notch due to being part of the team since last year, whereas Draco showing promise as a Seeker once he collected more experience under his belt.

It was when the commentator announced the Snitch spotted when Loki noticed a different ball, the one they called Bludger, bending against its physics to hurtle itself straight to Harry's direction with what appeared to be an unstoppable force.

Merlin was already looking at him when Loki turned to his right. They both peered below to the field and watched the rogue Bludger tailed Harry Potter who was after the Snitch, with Draco Malfoy not far.

In a moment of confusion, Harry stalled a second more that had the Bludger colliding horribly against his elbow. There was unmistakably a broken arm, but it didn't stop the boy, speeding towards where he had seen the Snitch. His uninjured arm reached blindly until it felt the cold metal of the Snitch.

Several things happened at once—Harry fell from his broomstick as he was only riding with his legs when he caught the Snitch; the whistle rang, which Harry heard midair; the yells from the audience and teammates were also heard by Harry, together with the swish of wind from the incoming Bludger about to hit him the second time.

Harry closed his eyes to prepare for the ugly landing and the terrible crash of the Bludger against him that was soon to follow. They won anyway, and Harry felt the victory would override the pain he was about to experience.

Except nothing came.

From the audience box above stood Merlin and Loki like the rest, though in their case, they weren't standing with bated breath and were in fact performing magic: Merlin keeping the rogue Bludger immobile by overpowering the enchantment that rigged it, and Loki was keeping Harry a few inches above the ground. They simultaneously grounded their magic, with Merlin murmuring a quick dispelling spell to send the Bludger away while Loki lowered Harry on the ground to his side, opposite of the broken arm.

The audience broke into loud cheers and applause as the Gryffindor was announced winner, completely missing the save done by the two.

* * *

The second incident happened the same evening.

It was in the middle of the night where most were asleep except Merlin and Loki who were discussing what Merlin had insisted an attempt on the life of The Boy Who Lived earlier at the Quidditch field. Loki, on the other hand, begged to differ, arguing that it had a different feeling, and that it was quite a different tactic, if the writing on the wall on the night of Halloween was intended to be a threat for the boy.

There were hurried footsteps that went past Merlin's room. Peering outside, it was the Headmaster carrying what appeared to be one end of a statue with Professor McGonagall on the other end. Merlin emerged to help.

At closer look, Merlin realized that it wasn't a statue but rather a petrified student, Colin Creevy.

"Professor Emrys, we have to bring him to the hospital wing." Dumbledore gestured at the end of the hallway as Merlin replaced McGonagall on the other end. Dumbledore instructed McGonagall to wake Madame Pomfrey to meet them at the hospital wing.

They reached the destination in short time, not long after Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. Harry Potter was on the last bed, presumably sleeping under sedative.

Merlin helped heaving the petrified boy to the closest bed.

Professor McGonagall detailed how he was found by Dumbledore: assumed to be on his way to visit Harry. Merlin did remember this boy being fond of Harry.

"He brought his camera," Merlin observed. "You don't suppose..."

Dumbledore carefully pried the camera from the frozen hands, upon opening the back of it, a jet of steam shot out. It smelled unpleasantly of burned plastic film.

Melted, of course it had to be. The baffling situation wouldn't be made easy for them.

Merlin quietly agreed with Dumbledore that the more pressing question was how in the world could this happened.

* * *

There was a campaign to start the Dueling Club.

Merlin, growing more concerned each passing day, was the first to ask permission for it. He also suggested that Loki should be the one to oversee the club. The trickster wasn't that happy when he was the last to hear the news.

Merlin argued that Loki was the most logical choice to handle it, despite the God of Mischief's distaste against whiny children who couldn't handle a bit of pain and those who would surely resolve their petty fights through duels.

As much as he protested though, it was already decided the day before Merlin brought it up to him.

On the first club meeting, Loki was met with eager faces of almost all of the student body from the four houses. It was bound to be chaotic with children this many. Thankfully, he need not to tell them to settle down once he stood atop the platform.

"Today marks the beginning of the Dueling Club," Loki began, sharp emerald eyes assessing boys and girls. "What you will learn here will be more advanced than our lessons in class. We will not be following a set of curriculum here; spells you know of that others don't are encouraged." He didn't have to remind them that the curses that would land them in prison wasn't counted. They should know as much. "This club encourages strategic thinking to measure how quick you are in your feet. Use what you learned in and out of Hogwarts, because the real world is not as forgiving. Lastly, the club aims to have its members learn from each other, and that should remind you that there is always strength in number." Merlin gave him a proud smile which Loki pretended he didn't notice. "But also remember that it doesn't mean you are weak alone. This club's purpose is also to ensure that on your own, you will be able to fight and survive your way."

Giddy anticipation thrummed among the students. Loki nodded to Merlin, continuing, "Professor Emrys will be my assistant in this club. We will demonstrate a short duel in which you can all pick up new spells to practice and add to your ammunition. We will also be demonstrating the basics such as the stance and proper etiquette in a formal duel."

On the other end of the stage was Merlin, with his bloody red scarf (what he was using since Loki met him) wounded around his neck, tucked under his jacket. He was grinning, clearly enjoying the prospect of dueling against the trickster, seeing as he never had been privy to it. They did measure their strength before, out of curiosity, but never against each other.

They both decided that this should be fun.

They bowed down, wands ready for the sake of show, especially when their duel would eventually end up with them using magic without incantations.

Loki took the first move by pointing his wand near Merlin's ankle where a flicker of small fire broke out caused by a mild _Incendio_. The trickster wasn't going for an offense but rather a distraction ahead of the disarming spell that would follow.

Merlin, though, was agile enough to keep up, blocking the _Expelliarmus_ that Loki had thrown his way. If it had been somebody else in Merlin's place and was unsuccessful in defense, they would found their own self expelled against the wall, colliding with a sickening crunch at the back.

The good news was that he was Merlin, and never did he expect Loki to downplay his abilities.

In retaliation, Merlin used the same tactic on Loki. Instead of a harmless fire by the feet, he yelled _Duro,_ pointingon the trickster's feet and interrupting Loki's advance. He knew from his years of observing Loki that you wouldn't want him to get to you at close quarters when he was the enemy, since it was when his deception was more underhanded.

Knowing it would only take Loki a split second to escape, Merlin adhered the trickster's hardened feet on the stage with a _Colloshoo_.

It took Merlin a bit late to realize Loki wasn't making any move from where he stood.

Loki was figuring out Merlin's steps ahead of him.

A loud _Carpe Retractum_ hit Merlin squarely on the chest in a moment of hesitation. He was pulled halfway and was expelled with a _Depulso._ Merlin resisted most of the impact that only sent him a few good inches from the edge of the platform.

Adrenaline bubbled in Merlin at the first contact of one of the offensive spells they both practiced the night before, seeing as they only knew a spell or two of the modern magic. If one were to look closely, the spells they used so far was on the first couple of pages of the spell book the Room of Requirement graciously provided. They couldn't afford yet to blow their covers—the Greatest Wizard of all time and the God of Mischief didn't simply stroll into Hogwarts.

Loki removed the casting on his feet. " _Finite Incantatem..._ to terminate spell effects." He glanced at the students who never removed their eyes from the duel of their two professors. Gesturing at the direction Merlin flew, Loki smirked. " _Carpe Retractum_ and _Depulso_ are a good combination if you want your opponent to fly gracefully like that."

There was a collective giggle among the children. It didn't last long when they forgot to notice the history professor recovering on his feet, catching the other professor unaware.

Merlin yelled an _Incarcerous_. Though instead of ropes, a cloth-like cover appeared on Loki's mouth, effectively preventing him to cast incantations. Not that they need words in the first place, but Merlin couldn't help but retaliate after Loki's display.

"An _Incarcerous_ that I tweaked to produce a mouth cover instead," Merlin explained. "And _that_ is how you shut up a professor. It's not advisable to be used on all of your professors though. But we don't want Professor Loki's silver tongue running, do we?" Merlin winked at the students. He smiled sweetly at Loki's scowl. "Effective if you don't want your opponent to cast spells that require incantations, but nonverbal spells are also—Hey!"

Loki's eyes glimmered dangerously when he swiped the wand from Merlin's hand with his will.

"Alright." Merlin sighed. "There _are_ wizards who can perform nonverbal magic. Like Professor Loki here." The audience turned to Loki in awe. "But I'm sure you also know there _are_ wizards who can perform wandless magic."

Loki returned to Merlin his earlier spells just as easily with flicks of his wand. Merlin tilted his head challengingly, making no move to mutter even an _Accio_ to get his wand back nor to release his feet.

The trickster gave what appeared to be a _Baubillious_ , only it was green, mimicking the sparks of _Verdillious_. Merlin clashed it with a _Confringo_ that canceled each other's attacks.

The duel was supposed to be a tutorial of sorts, and yet it went down as wandless versus wordless due to the heat of the moment between Merlin and the God of Mischief.

Not that the audience were complaining though.

The Weasley twins started the placing of bets, which had most of the students slipping them a galleon or two. Professor Emrys and Professor Loki have an equal amount of bets placed on them, with most of the Slytherin house and Ravenclaw rooting for the trickster while houses Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for the warlock.

Unbeknownst to them, the Headmaster and a number of the professors had also filed in. Dumbledore was fondly watching the children cheer for their professor of choice. Amusement lighted the features of the Headmaster when he saw the surreptitious (at least what the Weasley twins thought) passing of coins and the two listing tallies.

"This duel is unorthodox," Snape said with distaste. "They're showing off instead of teaching."

"It is an amazing display, Severus. We don't always get to have the chance to see an exciting duel like this," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "Besides, the students don't mind."

"It encourages them to be reckless," Snape sneered.

"Or it will teach them how to be wary of certain spells if they see the effects first hand. Have faith on your students, Severus, and trust your fellow professors," Dumbledore advised. "They did what most duel instructors won't—demonstrate a real process of dueling that is outside the premises of rules. Perhaps, one day, this will be of use to them."

Snape was miffed but promptly went quiet once the Headmaster's eyes returned to watch the two new professors of the semester ending their duel with a flourish—Professor Emrys with his feet now free, palm opened and in close proximity, hovering by Professor Loki's chest, and after proving that he was adept in wandless magic, could have dealt serious damage to his opponent; Professor Loki, who didn't once bother to remove the bounding spell on his mouth, has the pointed end of his wand poised a centimeter away from Professor Emrys's neck that should it had been a blade, Professor Loki could have felled his opponent in one clean slice.

It was difficult to decide who would have won in an evenly matched duel. In the end, the audience, who watched with their breaths taken away, erupted into a round of applause and cheers.

The way Merlin's eyes went golden, and the way Loki's magic shifted around him in a faint emerald-green simmer in the heat of the duel went unnoticed by the rest, except by the trickster and the warlock.

And, most likely, by the Headmaster himself if the knowing look behind his spectacles were to go by.

…

The adrenaline was yet to be extinguished from their systems when they called two students of their choice to face each other off. Loki laid down the rule of disarming only.

Merlin, somewhat unsurprisingly, picked the Slytherin he had taken a shine on recently—Draco Malfoy. Apparently, from an outsider's perspective, this came as a surprise. Loki in turn picked The Boy Who Lived, a way also for Loki to gauge the boy by himself.

The remaining students were paired to practice off stage, though this had the students conflicted whether to watch the duel about to happen on the platform, or experience a duel themselves, excited as they were.

Spells were thrown back and forth between those partnered up, although some were one-sided after disarming their opponent at first try. Merlin took it upon himself to roam around to keep a watchful eye for possible accidents. Meanwhile, Loki was the one to give pointers and correct stances.

Harry and Draco were off to a start of both excitement and nervousness. Draco, the first to give into his nerves, inclined his wand only at the count of two, his attack hitting Harry on the chest. It didn't look pleasant, but Draco's own open expression of shock was visible. He appeared to be on the verge of apologizing—if his twitching as if debating with himself was to go by—until Harry sent a tickling spell that doubled Draco over in laughter.

An exchange of hexes that were basically harmless followed. The main rule of disarming alone was thrown out of the window, and Loki, as much as he would never it admit aloud, didn't want to break their competition that reminded him strongly of he and Thor on their younger days. Of course, the hexing part was only by Loki, while Thor would wrestle him on the ground for it.

The duel's harmless disposition was abruptly cut short when Draco, in a reflex against Harry's spell that had the latter catching him unaware, conjured a viper that slithered on the stage. The students who were keeping up on the duel gasped at the live snake hissing at anybody it laid its eyes on.

Merlin gestured for Loki to obliterate the adder when it had taken an interest on a Hufflepuff student who stood frozen in fear. It was an impressive conjuration by a twelve-year-old, and by Midgardian standards, it was already a feat. Though when Loki noticed Harry approaching the viper inch by inch, he believed that what he would witness was far more fascinating.

Loki shook his head at Merlin. He didn't have to turn to know Merlin sent a disapproving look.

Harry began muttering words that sounded like a snake's hiss. The snake reared its head to the boy, eyelids blinking and fangs bared. Harry was unfazed, and his unintelligible words went louder…

Harry was talking to it.

Loki had read of Parseltongue from tomes he used to gather information on Voldemort. Like Harry, the so-called Dark Lord was also a Parselmouth, a rare trait passed on from one of the Hogwarts's founders himself, Salazar Slytherin. Asgardians have their Allspeak that enabled them to understand any language and be understood in theirs, but it was limited to human language and was never on animals nor supernatural creatures of Midgard. Merlin, with his ability to speak to and command dragons, has been an interest to the trickster. Perhaps he wouldn't be even wrong if, like Merlin, Harry Potter was the last of his kind in the current generation to possess this trait.

" _Vipera Evanesca!_ "

The conjured snake was smoldered into nothing when Merlin's spell came into contact with it. He dismissed the class with a cheerful note of the next meeting's time and date. When he glanced at Loki though, there was no amusement but only reproach.

"Why did you do that?" Merlin demanded after the last of the students exited. "I told you to banish it! And now there's a kid much more terrified of snakes more than ever."

Loki snorted. "He's bound to see worse in this world that he would rather be in a pit of snakes."

"What if it bit a student, Loki? Did you ever think of that?"

The trickster rolled his eyes. "I believe that's where their healers are for."

Merlin's irritation evaporated into exasperation. "And it will reflect badly on you. These children have parents who would like to have a word with you if there was any incident that happened under your care."

"Since when did I care for Midgardian opinions?" Loki snapped. "And if you're going to ask why I let the animal for a little longer, it's because I want to confirm if Harry Potter can indeed talk to snakes. You said it yourself that it originally came from Salazar Slytherin, who you mentioned built the Chamber of Secrets which we speculated to house a gargantuan creature that is likely to be a snake; a basilisk, if I'm to make a wild guess. The chamber can only be opened by the heir, and here we have Harry who happens to be a Parselmouth since the death of Voldemort. Do you know the implication of this, Merlin?"

Merlin's eyes widened as the realization dawned to him. "You think Harry is the heir of Slytherin," he said weakly. "You mean to say that he's the one sending the basilisk to petrify students?"

"Yes, and no. I'm _sure_ he's the mentioned heir, but, no, he's not the one commanding the basilisk," Loki said firmly. "He's only a child who doesn't understand yet the extent of his ability _and_ the power he has over those he can command."

"If only a Parselmouth can control the basilisk, then who else? Who can possibly—" Merlin stopped.

Loki nodded, knowing well that Merlin figured it out. "There's no other explanation for it."

"But we should have been alerted when he got in." Merlin paced around the room, tying to wrap his mind on the fact that Voldemort slipped in Hogwarts undetected. It was still a hypothesis, mind, but knowing how Loki could piece together clues and being beyond good at it, Merlin was immediately inclined to believe him despite the impossibility.

Voldemort couldn't have been inside Hogwarts all along, then perhaps it was his will that was left to resonate along the castle grounds. Merlin had found out that Hogwarts has a solid security that remained undented, and to further fortify it, he weaved his own power of Old Religion. It formed a connection between Merlin and Hogwarts, with a part of it extended to Loki as well.

"There are other ways to go in undetected," Loki said. "I doubt he's lacking in tricks. He found it difficult, probably, but not impossible. His corporeal form is gone, but he isn't dead."

"So he entered having a different form," Merlin finished. "A phantom then?"

"Unfortunately for us, we have no clue as to what he is now. However, there's still a move we can take." A smirk began forming on Loki's lips. "We have to see this chamber they speak of."

The deep frown that etched itself on Merlin's face had somewhat lightened. "You mean you want to hunt the basilisk down."

"Hunt? I'll have you know that I'm not as barbaric as my brother. This is a magnificent creature that will be of more use alive," Loki reasoned. "I'll take it back with me."

It was enough of a reassurance to Merlin. Asgard, despite being a place he hasn't been, was bound to be greatly advanced than earth in terms of sorcery and technology. He never once doubted the legitimacy of stories Loki had regaled him with.

"When we find it, it'll be another feat to write on your list," Loki commented dryly.

"Just like old times," Merlin mused.

* * *

It seemed though that the students themselves had worked out that Harry was the heir.

Only because of completely different reasoning—Harry egging the snake to Justin, the boy who stood frozen during the meeting of duel club.

Merlin kept an ear to the rumors floating around that spread like wildfire within twenty-four hours. Apparently, they made Harry into a terrible young boy who was on the path of being a Dark Lord himself. Merlin could only sympathize with the boy from sidelines.

It turned even worst when Justin was found petrified not far by also a petrified Nearly Headless Nick, with the latter's circumstances the most disturbing. Even the non-living wasn't safe from the creature.

And the two just had to be stumbled upon by the poltergeist, Peeves, who loudly declared Harry Potter being caught in the act.

Before Merlin could pacify the situation though, there were a handful of students who were immediately on the scene, with Professor McGonagall on their heels. She whisked Harry away to the Headmaster's office.

The children dispersed into hushed whispers carrying harsher words. Merlin could only sigh in defeat. He and Loki have to act fast and locate the chamber as soon as possible.

"Professor Emrys?" a timid boyish voice spoke.

Merlin found Draco Malfoy without his usual companions, purposely waiting for the crowd to break to corner the history professor.

"Mister Malfoy?" Merlin was slightly surprised seeing him alone.

"It's Draco, professor. Mister Malfoy is my father," the boy corrected him, though his eyes did not leave the floor. Merlin didn't speak, seeing Draco's hesitation to say something more. "It's… it's about Potter."

Merlin smiled kindly, leveling himself to the boy. "What about Harry, Draco?"

"Well, I'm not sorry that I conjured a snake. I'm proud of it." Draco met Merlin's eyes straight. "I-It's not my fault they're talking about Potter like he'll become worse than You-Know-Who. It's not like he couldn't be!"

Merlin regarded him with patience reserved for stubborn children… and a once stubborn Arthur. "Nobody is blaming you for it, Draco. We can't help their opinions, but we can choose not to take part in talking behind Harry's back."

"I'm not," Draco retorted. "I mean, my friends are because they have huge traps. I don't defend Potter to them, but sometimes I ask them to shut up because they're very noisy."

It was very _Draco_ of him. "That's the least we can do for Harry." In spite of the antagonism Draco projected to Harry, he actually cared. Merlin's lips twitched into a small smile. "Worried, aren't you?"

Draco shook his head vehemently. "Of course not! Pure-bloods are safe." He crossed his arms. There was a bit of pink on his both ears.

"I mean, worried for Harry?"

Draco looked stricken at the question as if he couldn't decide whether to be offended or embarrassed. He settled for both, harrumphing snobbishly. He turned his back in an instant without excusing himself from Merlin.

Merlin could only find the rude gesture amusing.

"Congratulations on your last game of Quidditch, by the way," Merlin called out.

Draco stopped, turning back to Merlin. "We didn't win," he said sourly.

"No, but you heeded what I told you and proved yourself capable. Congratulations are still in order." Merlin winked.

Draco flushed under the praise. You would think that for a boy who came from a prominent family, he would be used to compliments.

Meekly, Draco nodded in thanks and muttered an excuse to leave.

* * *

One could be in Hogwarts for several years and yet you could only uncover barely a quarter of its quirks.

Merlin and Loki were exploring the castle during past midnight, carefully avoiding the wandering caretakers and a certain trio—or sometimes duo—with a penchant for disobeying curfews.

Ah, the curiosity of children.

Merlin could only hope they were being careful. They might be in the grounds of Hogwarts which, while a secure and safe place on its own, still has unaccounted dangers within that have been part of the castle since its creation.

They visited the hospital wing once, where two students were lying in their last position before being frozen. On a small bed was Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, who was in as much of the same state.

"They're lucky," Loki said in a low voice.

"Lucky they're petrified?"

"Yes." Loki touched the forehead of Colin Creevy. "If Asgardian basilisk is the same as a Midgardian one, then you know that it promises an instant death once its gaze came into contact with yours. Petrification is the better choice, don't you think?"

"Now that you pointed it out," Merlin murmured. "Not that I'm not glad, but how?"

Loki hummed in thought, passing by the occupied beds with silent steps. "It could be that they didn't meet the basilisk's gaze directly."

Merlin glanced at the damaged camera. "Colin saw it through the camera."

"And the recent had seen it through the ghost."

"And the cat?"

"There was a puddle on the floor that evening. It saw the reflection."

Merlin suppressed a shudder. They were lucky indeed.

Sadly, for Merlin and Loki, they weren't as fortunate in locating the chamber.

* * *

February was quite a strange affair, particularly the fourteenth.

St. Valentine's Day levitated the mood, somehow. There were fewer decorations, and the celebration was mostly between students. Chocolates and gifts were passed on; cards with poems and sweet messages were given either anonymously or personally.

Even Merlin and Loki got their fair share.

By the end of Merlin's first class that day, three female students handed him colorful boxes decorated with elaborate ribbons. They smelled of sweet cologne, and Merlin didn't have the heart to reject them. He thanked them awkwardly as they walked away, giggling.

By the end of his second class, it was a pair of female twins who approached, and Merlin could feel his embarrassment at the attention even more, seeing there were other students who saw the Patil twins handing him four small boxes in brightly colored gift wraps. According to the twins, color blue was for Merlin, and the greens were for Loki that they couldn't give to him in person since their DADA class wasn't for another day.

Merlin hasn't been including those between his classes, gifts handed to him when he was spotted at the hallways and such, and those he got from the faculty even, courtesy of Dumbledore who was giving away sweets during every occasions.

At least though, Merlin wasn't alone in the predicament.

"Why did they give me these?" Loki demanded, gesturing at the pile of colorful boxes at his table.

"It's a tradition of ours. It started a bit later in my years. You give a present to the person you admire and or adore. Usually, you give chocolates," Merlin informed him as if reading on a textbook, though he was fighting the urge to snigger at the trickster's expression. "Now, now, they find you charming, that's why." Loki scowled from the small gift given to him by Madam Pince ( _for always visiting my library_ ; pretty sure curious students had visited it more often), turning to Merlin who didn't bother to stop his chuckling.

"You find this funny," Loki deadpanned.

"You have to admit it is. I wonder if we'll get this much attention if they knew we're actually older than Hogwarts itself," Merlin mused.

"Or if they know it's _your_ name they have been using to curse."

Merlin winced. "Been hearing a lot of variation of it since we got here."

"You haven't heard a lot then." Loki snapped his fingers at the spot where the accumulated presents used to occupy. The pile vanished into thin air. "There are sorts of talk floating around between us."

"Oh?"

A mischievous smile formed on Loki's lips. "They believe their two professors are having a clandestine affair at night."

Merlin would have choked if he was drinking.

A beat passed. "Wait. What?"

"We _are_ having a clandestine affair at night," Loki pointed, face betraying nothing of his amusement.

"For an entirely different reason!"

"Well, they don't know that, do they?"

Merlin groaned. "And you didn't even correct them."

"Because it is laughable."

"Yeah, no offense, but you're not my type too."

"We have established that long ago."

"If I'm some good looking blond, you'll probably dig me," Merlin muttered under his breath. _Like Arthur, maybe_.

Loki turned sharply to him but promptly looked away just as quick.

Merlin interpreted it the other way.

"That's your type? Can't we be any more similar?"

"Don't assume my preferences."

"I'm not. You just confirmed it."

A shadow passed over the trickster's face that left swiftly. There was something off in his reaction, try as he might to hide it.

Merlin dropped the subject in spite of his curiosity.

* * *

Another double attack soon followed. It was a Ravenclaw prefect this time, and one of the trio, Hermione Granger.

To Merlin's relief, they were only petrified just like the other three before them. Their theory was confirmed when a circular mirror was spotted near the new victims.

Merlin was wary as to how Harry and Ron would deal with the situation. Knowing them, the two were bound to ignore the newly adjusted curfew. It was highly likely that they would be going out later in the evening, therefore Merlin, along with Loki, had been purposely patrolling by the Gryffindor Tower.

Nobody noticed a pair of professors missing from their post and following two unsuspecting boys huddled under an invisibility cloak that didn't make them invisible under Merlin's and Loki's vision. Still, it was a pretty neat cloak.

Merlin and Loki were led to Hagrid's hut, where in the front porch appeared two boys. Hagrid ushered them inside, eyes looking out and squinting near the professors' location.

Loki gestured for them to get nearer. They barely crept from the left side of the hut when they heard another pair of voices getting closer.

It was the Headmaster and another familiar man. Once they were closer, Merlin recognized him as the Minister.

Merlin's frown and confusion deepened as Hagrid was accused of the Muggle-born attacks. Merlin didn't like this one bit. They might know something he did not, but like Dumbledore, Merlin has his confidence on Hagrid.

"There's someone else coming," Loki said in a whisper.

It was a man with blond hair of the same shade of Draco's. Merlin was correct in his guess when the man was called by his name.

Merlin was unsurprised at the display of rudeness by Draco's father, and while his son wasn't lacking in that display either, Draco was at least showing promise in improving.

In the end, Hagrid was taken away, saying something rather loudly about following the spiders. Once the voices were a good distance away from the gamekeeper's home, two pairs of feet shuffled from the back exit. Harry and Ron were again hidden under their cloak, making their way back to the castle.

* * *

Harry has the odd feeling that he was being watched, and the feeling worsened after Hagrid was taken away.

More concerning was during his DADA classes. It was as if his own professor was solely keeping an eye on him. It did nothing on Harry's growing distrust on Professor Loki that began when the writing on the wall first appeared.

Almost everybody made him the perpetrator because of his Parseltongue, and nobody would dare suspect a professor even if he was on the scene the same time as Harry. It was unfair that he was the one to endure the tormenting rumors, and his peers avoiding him. For all they knew, Professor Loki was a Parselmouth himself and the heir of Slytherin. He certainly has the posh look in him. If only Harry has a way to prove his professor had been a Slytherin.

Harry's mood has been sour when he realized his last class would be DADA. He wondered if there was hope yet for a better instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It was in the middle of Herbology when fate seemed to smile on Harry.

He practically smacked the garden shears on Ron when he pointed at the spiders scuttling in an eerily straight line. Looking overhead, the line seemed to be heading towards the Forbidden Forest.

Ron didn't appear to like the prospect of going to the Forbidden Forest, at night even. They would be taking Fang with them anyway, not that it assured Ron.

They slipped to feed Fang and smuggle him to the Forbidden Forest with them. Memories of last year being there witnessing Voldemort drinking the poor unicorn's blood still made Harry shudder.

Harry paused, finding it difficult to see where the spiders were going exactly. It was pitched black even with the light of their wand, and he knew they were getting deeper and deeper into the forest. Ron's nerves were passing on to Harry that he almost yelped when he accidentally touched Fang's wet snout.

Suddenly, Fang let out an echoing bark.

Harry strained his ears and heard something moving… something big.

A bright light was flung into them. Harry struggled to see through the brightness when Ron shouted in relief.

It was Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia that they used to get to Hogwarts, and the rumbling he was hearing was its engine. Its state was pitying, and Harry felt even more guilty for hijacking the car from Ron's parents when they had been nothing but hospitable during his stay in the Burrow.

The trail was gone when the spiders scrambled away from the sudden blaze of light. Harry gestured to Ron with the intention of looking again for the trail. Ron didn't move from his position though, frozen in terror at something above Harry.

Harry didn't get the chance to find out what it was when a hairy appendage wrapped itself on his torso, hanging him upside down.

There were numerous clicking sounds as several spiders of varying sizes swarmed Ron and Harry's surroundings. Harry was then unceremoniously dropped. It occurred to him that the spider was speaking.

If the spider that lifted him was large, the one it was talking to was the size of an elephant.

The largest spider was called Aragog, whose every eyes were milky white. He was blind, it seemed.

To Harry's surprise, it asked Hagrid by name and was disappointed when he learned it wasn't him. Aragog grumbled about disturbing his sleep, giving permission to kill Harry and Ron to their utter terror.

"We're friends of Hagrid!" Harry cried. If he stopped talking, they would be sure meal of these spiders. "He's in trouble. That's why we came."

Heart pounding, Harry explained the circumstances that lead them there. Aragog's pincers clicked furiously at the accusations on Hagrid, but it was clear that he was listening intently until Harry was finished.

"That was years ago! They thought it was me, and they made Hagrid leave for it."

Harry learned that Aragog wasn't from the Chamber of Secrets but rather on some distant land and was given to Hagrid by a stranger. Aragog have never harmed a human out of respect for Hagrid who still visited him in the Forbidden Forest and even brought him a wife. Hagrid was a good man, Aragog said, and he was a friend of his.

"Then what is inside the Chamber of Secrets?"

"We do not speak of it, for it is an ancient creature we fear above all."

If a spider this large who was as menacing on its own and yet feared the creature of the chamber, Harry could only imagine with dread what it was.

Harry slowly backed away, politely saying they would go now. He has a terrible feeling that it wouldn't be that easy.

"Go? I think not. My children do not harm Hagrid by my command, but I cannot refuse them fresh meat that wandered so easily in our lair. Good bye, friends of Hagrid."

Harry spun as a great wall of spiders formed around him and Ron. The wand he was gripping tightly gave no assurances that they would leave the forest alive. Harry stood, ready to die fighting, when another blaze of light illuminated the hollow. It has an intensity brighter than the Ford Anglia's headlights, and it almost made Harry's head hurt if not for the warmth it emanated.

Fang barked at Harry's side. An arm—a human arm—wrapped around Harry's shoulders and guided him the other way. He blindly called for Ron but was shushed by the voice pulling him to the direction Harry and Ron saw the car last.

"It's alright, Harry. Ron is safe," a familiar voice assured him. "Don't let go of Fang. The light might not last long."

Harry kept up with a fast jog, pausing only when he heard the roar of Mr. Weasley's car. A door was opened and Harry hastily jumped inside, followed by Fang. The other door was opened, and Ron's head almost crashed on Harry's forehead.

The driver's and passenger's seats were occupied by the last two people they expected—Professor Emrys and Professor Loki.

"Professors!" Ron exclaimed in relief, just in time for a spider to hit the side mirror.

"Ron, keys for this?" Professor Emrys asked.

"W-We don't have it. It works on its—ah!"

A hairy leg slipped at the small opening of the passenger seat's window, protruding past Professor Loki and right under his chin. The DADA professor was unfazed, producing a small knife and cutting the leg, causing it to pitifully retreat. Professor Loki extended his armed hand out, catching the spider on one of its eyes. It shrieked in pain.

Ron could only watch from the back in awe. "Wicked."

Harry didn't have time to reply when he and Ron lurched forward. Moments later, the car was on air, expertly steered by Professor Emrys.

Harry's chest was still pounding loudly as they landed safely on Hogwarts ground, a few meters away from Hagrid's home.

The five exited the car; more like ejected them, if Harry was to be honest. The Ford Anglia zipped away back to the Forbidden Forest, leaving Harry and Ron standing awkwardly under their professors' gazes. Ron was already whimpering beside Harry as they both waited for the reprimand to come.

What they got though was Professor Emrys gathering them both in an embrace.

"That was reckless of you two! What if Professor Loki and I didn't make it in time? You two could have been—Are you two and Fang alright?"

Harry could only nod dumbly as Professor Emrys inspected them for injuries. Harry had never seen his history professor agitated. He was worried for them. Harry was never fussed over like this before by somebody other than Madame Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley, both who have maternal instincts. Never from any male adult, though. They all expected him, even Dumbledore, to be capable of handling it… handle Voldemort. Harry has nothing against that, mind, but there were times when he wondered what it felt like to have a father or a brother figure. Did he even have a godfather? If he has, he wondered, too, where he might be.

"Sorry, professor…s," Ron apologized, head hung low.

Professor Emrys sighed, ruffling Ron's mussed hair. "We're not asking for an apology, Mister Weasley, but next time you go out, we want you to at least tell somebody so you can have a guardian with you. I know that if Hagrid is here, he would have come with you. He isn't here though, and you should have someone with you."

"It's not like we'll be permitted," Harry said before he could stop himself.

"It's about the Chamber of Secrets, isn't it?" Professor Emrys asked gently. Harry's head snapped up. "We know. We've been on it ourselves, Professor Loki and I."

"You… do?"

"Of course," Professor Emrys said. Harry regarded him warily. He has a feeling he could trust the history professor. Professor Loki on the other hand…

Harry carefully eyed his DADA professor. Since that Halloween evening, he never trusted him. Should he, now?

Professor Loki didn't speak, nor did he break the eye contact. His eyes were eerily glinting, and his jaws sharp from Harry's angle.

"You don't trust Professor Loki, do you?" Professor Emrys supplied for Harry. "While I admire that you know not to easily give your trust away, I have to say that Professor Loki has my full confidence. I trust him with my life. Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry nodded meekly. Trusting Professor Emrys wasn't difficult.

"Then you have to trust me too that Professor Loki is just as trustworthy as I am." Professor Emrys stood up. "We know you're searching for the Chamber of Secrets as well, and we're not above admitting that your search is probably more fruitful than ours, being new in Hogwarts and all."

"What do you know, professor?"

Harry half expected Professor Emrys to be hesitant in sharing what they knew. To his surprise though, Professor Emrys answered evenly, "We have a theory on the creature that resides in it." He glanced briefly at Professor Loki. "We think it's a basilisk, Harry."

"Blimey," Ron murmured under his breath. "No wonder even the spiders are afraid of it."

"It's a theory," Professor Loki finally spoke. "Loosely based on you being a Parselmouth and clearly hearing the creature's words."

Harry's shoulder slumped. "We thought it was Hagrid who opened the chamber and the creature was Aragog." Harry added at their puzzlement, "A diary showed me."

"A diary?"

"It has an imbued memory in it, of a former student and schoolmate of Hagrid's. He was there when a student died."

"And this diary?"

"I lost it," Harry lied. He didn't want to cause more issue on the ransacking. "What… what exactly can a basilisk do, sir?"

"Instantaneous death upon eye contact," Professor Loki said. "Miss Granger and the others are fortunate in their circumstances to be only petrified."

Ron bit his lip at the mention of Hermione. Harry knew he missed her terribly, even if he would never admit it.

"She'll be fine," Professor Emrys assured Ron with a smile. "Just like the others. We simply have to wait."

The silence between them was somber at the reminder of their petrified friend and the apparent dead end on their investigation.

Just when hope seemed to be lost, there was a sudden spark of epiphany that abruptly made itself known to Harry.

Harry gasped in realization. "The student who died before. Aragog said she was found by the bathroom. What if she never left?"

Ron's eyes widened. "You don't mean—Moaning Myrtle?!"

Harry ignored him. "Moaning Myrtle is the ghost living in the second floor girls' toilet. The one out of order ever since we first came here," he explained to the two professors.

"Do you think we could talk to her? Not now. It's late, and I don't think Professor McGonagall will appreciate us leading you to the girls' toilet, out of order or no," Professor Emrys said wryly. "Tomorrow, maybe?"

Harry informed them of their schedule for the next day. He knew he and Ron would find it difficult to sneak past patrols in broad daylight, but he couldn't wait long for night fall to hear from Myrtle. At least, they would have Professor Emrys and Professor Loki's supervisions as an excuse.

Harry and Ron were escorted to their dormitory by Professor Emrys, with Professor Loki keeping an eye out for any other patrollers who could possibly caught them herding back two students (Harry wisely keeping to himself his possession of invisibility cloak, though somehow he wondered if he had to bother. It seemed as if his professors already knew about it).

A few steps away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, Professor Emrys spoke, "Will you two promise me not to go alone if ever you reach a breakthrough on your investigation? That you'll get me and Professor Loki to accompany you two on what you are planning to do? Or at least one of us if the other isn't available?"

Harry still have qualms in trusting his DADA professor, but he found himself nodding, much to Professor Emrys's relief.

Ron went to bed without undressing. Harry, however, was far from feeling sleepy.

Half an hour of not finding sleep, Harry determinedly closed his eyes, willing the hours to come by faster rather than get himself to rest.

* * *

Loki noticed that Merlin was in high spirits immediately the following day.

At his raised eyebrow, Merlin grinned and shared the news of Mandrakes ready for cutting for that evening.

"And I suppose you have a hand in it."

"I may have quickened the process a bit."

"Just in time for their exams," Loki quipped.

Merlin looked indignant at what Loki was insinuating. "They're _allowed_ to be excused."

It was by lunch when Loki asked him of a nagging question he had since last night. "Are you sure you want us to be accompanied by two children to the chamber?" For as long as Loki knew Merlin, he was under the impression that the Midgardian Sorcerer's self-preservation run for others and never for himself, and hearing him allowing two young boys to tag with them towards the unknown was quite uncharacteristic of Merlin.

Merlin didn't answer immediately, looking far away. "It's their spirit for adventures, I think." His gaze went farther than what was outside the window, beyond the time present. "Makes you want to follow them instead."

Loki was fully aware that it would fall on deaf ears should he point out that Merlin was no longer living in his past. There was no destined king to follow now, no knights to run after, no estranged sorcerers to save from themselves who fear their own power, and no destiny to keep up with anymore.

The God of Mischief looked the opposite direction, giving Merlin the time to reminisce.

…

Looking at the torn page they pried away from Hermione's stiff fist, Harry realized that Hermione had the same theory on the creature of the Chamber of Secrets as the two professors. Piecing together what they have and Hermione's torn page, the entrance of the chamber should be in Moaning Myrtle's own toilet.

All the more reason to reach her as soon as possible, he supposed.

With renewed determination, Harry dragged Ron with him to the staff room. History was their next class, and he could hardly wait for it to end to corner Professor Emrys and, well, Professor Loki who was in another DADA class of his—in which Harry wasn't sure whether it made him relieved or not. Harry decided to go for the next best person he knew would at least try to listen to him—Professor McGonagall.

The staff room was thankfully empty, and they could wait for Professor McGonagall there without seemingly suspicious.

Harry and Ron waited for the break signal that never came.

And then, Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice rang, asking for all students to return to their dormitories while the teachers to the staff room.

Harry, meanwhile, with no intention of returning to their dormitory, spotted a wardrobe of sorts to hide with Ron. They listened as the crowd milled on their way to the dormitories and the staff room door banging open multiple times. From the space in between the musty cloaks inside the wardrobe, Harry could see some of the teachers were puzzled, while others downright scared. Neither Professor Emrys nor Professor Loki were there.

When Professor McGonagall arrived, the staff room fell silent and were at the edge of their seats as to hear the news.

"It has happened. A student has been taken by the monster into the chamber itself."

Harry and Ron shared horrified looks the same time Professor Snape asked, "What made you so sure?"

Professor McGonagall was pale when she said, "The Heir of Slytherin left another message beneath the first one: _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_."

"Who is it? Who was taken?"

"Ginny Weasley."

Harry felt Ron's grip on his elbow slacked, eyes wide in disbelief.

McGonagall told them about sending the students home tomorrow, of the end of Hogwarts that Harry couldn't accept himself, when another person entered the staff room. For a second, Harry thought it was Dumbledore or Professor Emrys. It was Professor Loki.

"I heard what happened."

Snape stepped forward from the rest who were looking ill each passing minute.

"A girl was snatched, _professor_. And I don't suppose you know of her whereabouts." Snape sneered, his distrust hadn't waned yet.

"Professor Snape, please," Professor McGonagall intervened, strategically placing herself between the two professors. "This is not the time and place to throw accusations."

Professor Loki impressively ignored Snape, addressing Professor McGonagall directly. "She was absent in my class today. Do you happen to know where she was seen last?"

Harry droned out the conversation. He glanced at Ron who was beyond worry, muttering; Harry realized he was talking to him.

"You don't think she's—but she's a Pure-blood!"

Harry wanted to tell him this was more than Muggle-born and Pure-blood. Without a word, Harry purposely waited for a chance to slip from the staff room with Ron in tow, once the faculty members left for their own quarters.

"Where are we going now?" Ron asked.

"Professor Loki."

They knocked on Professor Loki's office door, and for a while, Harry feared he was gone with his own search. He has no clue where Professor Emrys might be, and there was no time to wait.

Harry pried open the door knob that wasn't locked. He was past caring for manners—Ginny needed to be saved.

"Professor—"

Harry took in his professor's appearance. Professor Loki was wearing something else than his usual black robes: his attire was of green and gold, with vambraces covering his forearms. They caught him just in time to see him hiding a thin blade on his left boot; Harry bet it wasn't the only hidden weapon he has in his person.

Right then he didn't look every bit of a professor but rather like a warrior Harry usually saw on the shows Dudley used to watch on the telly. Only that Harry knew those were costumes and props, while Professor Loki was the real deal.

"Sir? Are you going for my sister?" Ron asked hopefully.

Professor Loki paused, regarding them each. "The basilisk is what I'm really after. As for Miss Weasley… she'll appreciate familiar faces."

Ron's back straightened, empowered by Professor Loki's words. "How about Professor Emrys, sir?"

"He's with the healers at the moment, been helping with the tending of those petrified since afternoon. I don't think they'll be finished any time soon."

Professor Loki looked at his wand, as if seriously considering whether to leave it or carry it with him. He caught Harry staring at him but didn't say anything, pocketing his wand like an afterthought.

"Lead the way to the entrance of the chamber."

…

The ghost they called _Moaning Myrtle_ has been difficult to speak with at first without her wailing at her every word.

Loki was becoming impatient and was close to snapping at the ghost when its attention turned to him, sidling closer to his space, batting her eyelashes and giggling.

He heard Harry clearing his throat and asked again, "How did you die, Myrtle?"

The ghost encircled Loki from where he stood as she went on her tale. She gestured at one of the taps that she mentioned never worked.

"Say something in Parseltongue, Harry," Ron suggested. "Anything."

Harry hesitated initially. He was speaking in the common tongue on his first few tries until his words became hissing like that of a snake.

The sink vanished, leaving the pipe opened large enough for a grown man to fit in and slide down.

"I'll descend first. You two follow me."

Loki jumped on the space, letting the gravity drag him downwards. Not long after his landing, Harry and Ron followed less gracefully.

"We must be miles under the castle," Harry said, voice echoing.

"Under the lake, probably," Ron muttered.

Loki produced a green light using his wand, illuminating the slimy walls and the ground littered with small animal skeletons.

"Keep close, and I suggest you close your eyes right away at any sign of movement."

Up ahead of the dark tunnel was an outline of something huge and curved. Loki couldn't feel any sign of life out of it from his position. Upon closer inspection, it was only a snake skin that must have been at least twenty feet long. The basilisk should be greater than that now since it had shed already.

Ron gulped from behind Loki.

There was a faint light by the end of the tunnel, where it led to a solid wall with a circular door adorned with curled, poison-green snakes. There was no handle.

Harry didn't have to be prompted. He stepped forward to hiss the same words he did to the sink a while ago.

The entrance opened to a spacious chamber that no one would imagine lying underground. There were rows of gigantic statues of serpent heads lining on either sides. Loki assessed the surroundings with a sidelong glance. He took note of the flickering of the eyes of the statue.

From behind him, Loki heard a gasp. Harry came running past him towards a prone figure of black and red.

"Ginny! Ginny—don't be dead—please don't be dead—"

Towering a few feet away from the unconscious girl was a statue of a man with long, thin beard and with stone feet on the chamber floor. Loki tilted his head in recognition. Salazar Slytherin.

Loki kneeled on Harry's left, deft fingers finding the pulse point of Ginny Weasley. It was barely there, and her skin was rapidly turning cold, but Loki could sense the will to live underneath the pads of his fingertips. It was enough for now.

"She won't wake," said a new voice softly.

It was a young man of sixteen, if Loki's estimation was correct, bearing the symbol of the house of Slytherin. Loki wasn't one to forget a face, therefore he could safely say this person wasn't a student of his. Or if this was even fully a person with blur contouring his outline, as if Loki was looking through a foggy glass.

More importantly, Loki couldn't detect life from him.

"Tom Riddle?"

"Hello, Harry," Tom greeted smoothly. "I see you've brought company. Ginny's brother, Ron, right? And…" Tom's attention was suddenly directed to Loki. "A professor, is it? Strange. I don't recall them dressing as you do, sir. If you pardon me pointing it out."

"It's for a special occasion," Loki replied silkily. "And I don't recall having a student who's an apparition."

"A memory, professor," Tom corrected. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

"What do you mean Ginny won't wake?" Ron asked aloud, not really minding the conversation.

Tom Riddle was too happy to recount the tale of Ginny Weasley spilling her secrets to an invisible person. According to him, she wrote in the diary of her petty woes and concerns—of her brothers teasing her, of her secondhand things, and of course of the famous The Boy Who Lived who wouldn't even return her feelings.

"And I wrote back with nothing but empathy and kindness, the good friend I was, enduring the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl. I was patient, you see." His lips quirked. " _Nobody understands me like you, Tom… You're a friend I can carry on my pocket… I'm glad I met you…_ I'm touched, really," he added mockingly before he laughed in a way that didn't suit him. It was cold, echoing inside the chamber.

"And you grew powerful than her," Loki concluded. "Gave a few secrets of your own, though not to make her not suspect but rather to feed her what you knew. For example, about this chamber." The trickster watched with satisfaction when Tom stopped cackling. "You began pouring your soul back into her."

Pride glowed sickeningly at Tom's eyes. "Very good, professor." He inched closer, encircling Loki from where he stood, humming. "Quick on the uptake. That alone earned you my respect, sir. Quite unlike _those_ I had the luck to teach me. Well, it would explain why it took stupid little Ginny a long time to stop trusting her diary, and nobody's the wiser."

Harry and Ron seethed.

"No matter. It led me to you, Harry Potter. I couldn't have been more delighted. The very person I wanted to meet."

"And why did you want to meet me?" Harry asked angrily.

Tom's gaze zeroed on Harry's scar, and his expression became hungry. He told Harry of framing the gamekeeper years ago and how Harry had trusted Tom for showing that piece of memory.

"I've been wondering, you know, how is it that a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time, escaping with nothing but a scar while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry dangerously, pointing out that Voldemort was after Tom's time.

"That's where you're wrong, Harry Potter. Voldemort is my past, present, and future…"

Tom pulled out a wand—Harry's, that Harry didn't even notice snatched from him until it was too late.

Loki followed the movement of the wand as Tom began tracing in the air; writing was more apt a description.

 **TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE**

Tom flicked his hand, where the letters rearranged themselves to form different set of words.

 **I AM LORD VOLDEMORT**

This was Voldemort—a child in Loki's eyes but a Dark Lord in the making. He hated his own origin after growing up in abandonment. A man in nature, corrupted by hatred and malice and desire to bring the same predicament he had to others.

Midgardians. They bear the same makeup.

And to think Merlin was one of them, and this was the lot he subjected himself to.

Loki placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, calming the boy to prevent him from rising to Tom Riddle's bait. Loki has no time for all this senseless drivel—he heard the important tidbits for now.

"Ignore him," Loki told Harry softly but not unquietly, getting the rise out of the phantom much to the trickster's utter satisfaction when its face contorted into displeasure. "Miss Weasley require medical assistance as soon as possible."

"Oh, no, you won't get out of here alive," Tom seethed. He faced the great statue of Salazar Slytherin, opening his mouth wide and hissing words that only Harry was the other person who could understand. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

The stone face moved, and the mouth opened wider and wider as if a door opening. Something stirred inside the statue's mouth, and Loki could hear it slithering to get out.

He turned to Harry and Ron sharply. "Carry Miss Weasley, and get the Hel out of here."

Loki saw Harry froze as the basilisk uncoiled on the chamber floor. He felt it crawling perilously closer to them, and without preamble, Loki conjured a cloth not dissimilar to Harry's invisibility cloak, only it was double the size of Harry's. Loki covered the three who were thankfully huddled in close proximity. He wrapped them with the cloak, their voices muffled underneath it, and he removed them from the path of the serpent.

Loki stood, back turned to the basilisk. He saw Tom watching him amusedly. "Professor seemed to be fond of hide and seek," he said idly. "No matter; it could smell them. But if you're so keen to go on first, who am I to begrudge you that?"

Tom hissed, "Kill him."

Loki narrowly ducked the strong snap of fangs aimed at his top half. Tom laughed at how close it came. Swiftly, without looking upwards, Loki rounded behind the basilisk, a knife darting towards its underside. As expected, he failed to nick the scale. Loki maneuvered carefully his feet on its wriggling scaled vertebrae as it twisted its body to reach Loki on its back.

Green sparks of lightning escaped from Loki's finger tips, hitting the snake from behind the head. When it hissed aloud in pain, Tom was no longer amused at the display.

Its tail thrashed, catching Loki unaware until his left foot got caught, tail constricting around it. Cursing at his carelessness, he was pulled out of balance.

"Throw him away!"

The thick tail connected to Loki's torso, sending him at the far end of the chamber, back hitting the right cheek of the statue before falling down the shallow pond of water below.

Though his physiology didn't allow him to sustain broken bones at the impact, it still brought pain and discomfort.

Rubbles from the ruined beard of the statue pinned Loki down. It wasn't a problem; he could lift the pile of concrete just as easily.

The basilisk, though, wasn't going to let him escape fast, crawling to the trickster in a speed that shouldn't be possible in its enormous bulk.

Loki could only watch in fascination at the bright, poisonous green creature.

"Over here!" Harry yelled from the other side of the chamber.

It earned both Tom and the snake's attention.

"KILL THAT BOY!"

Loki cursed at Harry's recklessness. _Fool_. Oh, the young and their idiocy.

Ron wisely remained hidden under the cloak Loki provided, much to his relief. Loki extracted himself from his position, sneaking past Tom to hide behind the nearest pillar. Tom had forgotten about him at the moment, favoring to chase the basilisk after Harry who was running blindly with closed eyes.

Loki located the Weasley siblings hidden in a dark corner of the chamber. Ron gathered his unconscious sister to his chest, both safely hidden under the invisibility cloak. Loki could see through the cloth that Ron was shuddering in fear, noting that it was far from cowardice, making Loki smile a little.

He heard Harry yelp, with the basilisk narrowly missing him. Cornered, Harry crossed his arms in front of him in defense.

For a second, Loki tensed, and he feared he was too late. Then came the sound of fluttering wings of a bird, of a phoenix of flaming red feathers that swooped down the eyes of the basilisk, scratching them by the edges that drew enough blood to make the serpent spit in agony.

Trust Merlin not to sit by and wait for their return.

"LEAVE THE BIRD!" Tom shrieked furiously. "THE BOY IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"

The serpent swayed confusedly. While it was still deadly, it was in a disadvantage. Harry, meanwhile, was searching for something by his feet, underneath the hat— _the sorting hat?_ —the phoenix dropped on Harry.

A gleam caught Loki's eyes. It was a thin, sharp sword with a ruby on its hilt.

Loki intervened, putting himself in between the giant serpent and Harry with his sword ready to wound the creature.

"No, Harry. Don't," Loki said softly, staring straight at terrified green eyes behind glasses.

"Sir?"

"Trust me," he told him calmly, watching until the fear receded into confusion and worry no longer for himself but for his professor.

"I won't… I won't be able to command it, professor. I wasn't able to," Harry murmured. "It will… It will kill you, sir."

"It won't. I promise you, Harry." Loki smiled sincerely, shushing the scared little boy when tears began welling up. "Hush now. You're a brave lad."

Loki turned from Harry, keeping him safe behind him, his back blocking Harry's view of the basilisk. The phoenix had stopped clawing at the serpent and was now flying overhead, keening.

Tom's attention was once again on Loki. He was calmer now, his expression that of wonder. "Touching." He clapped. "For last words. Oh, Harry, you're letting another die for you. _Again_."

"Be quiet, you mewling _quim_ ," Loki snapped, effectively shutting up a laughing Tom. _Too easy._

Loki spared him no more of his attention, giving it to the great serpent that stood still that was awaiting Tom Riddle's command. The trickster craned his neck upwards and waited for the serpent's head to meet his eyes.

Their gazes connected—one bloody, and one of naked curiosity.

Nothing happened.

Loki gave the creature a proud smile, holding out an empty hand. He waited once more as the snake merely flickered its gaze at it.

And then it leaned at Loki's touch, nudging its huge head to his hand as if craving for affection. It twitched and hissed when Loki moved his hand away from the side of its face, right below its eye. He chuckled lightly, his palm going at the underside of its mouth, making smoothing gestures, enough to placate the basilisk.

Huge, bulbous eyes with thin slits for pupils came right in front of Loki's face, as if staring at the trickster with newfound fondness, and respect, when it realized it couldn't harm Loki.

Loki concentrated, holding the serpent's eyes and disconnected himself from the environment, mind searching for the connection to the basilisk. He was welcomed immediately inside the snake's head.

" _Hello, human,"_ it said inside his mind in a male voice resembling that of an adult. _"What are you doing in my head?"_

" _I'm not a Parselmouth, you see. This is the only way I can communicate with you."_ The edges of Loki's lips curled upwards. _"You know human language,"_ he pointed.

" _My father taught me many, many years ago, but he often spoke to me in my language."_

" _Ah. Salazar Slytherin, was it? He must be proud to have an intelligent son such as you."_

" _He built this place for me when I was young, but I began to grow, and my father had already passed away to make more room for me. Nobody came anymore for a long time until Tom—no, Voldemort, he told me. I was hopeful. I thought he will either free me or feed me something as large as a goat. Rats were too small, but I was hungry. Still am. But Voldemort was only interested in my ability, and he liked setting me after his… enemies, as what he called them. Unfortunately, I still wasn't rid of him even as some time had passed since his last visit."_

" _Did he make you eat human flesh?"_

" _I do not like human flesh. My father said they tastes odd so I never tried. Voldemort wanted me to before, but I always refuse that certain command."_

" _You can refuse a Parselmouth's command?"_

" _Yes, but it is painful because he is my Master. The boy is a Parselmouth like Voldemort, but he has no hold over me. Unless he defeats Voldemort and claim me, or Voldemort passes, or if he gives his claim to the boy. If I refuse my Master's command, it will hurt. Like when you did earlier on my back."_

" _I apologize for that lightning,"_ Loki said back sincerely. _"It is a trick I learned when I was a child. I can teach you how to repel it next time."_

" _You will teach me?"_

" _Yes, but first I have to ask you to allow me to briefly nullify your ability. The boy is a student, and there are also another two of them hiding. These people are not like me who isn't affected, and I do not want them to die."_

" _You will blind me?"_

" _No. Not blind you. Merely closing your power for a while… and heal your wounds as well."_

" _You can do that?"_

" _I can, if you let me. Also, if you'll be so kind, I want to ask of your venom to lace it on a small knife of mine."_

" _You're not asking for my fang? The venom will be more potent."_

" _You are too generous, but no. I have no wish to harm you anymore."_ Loki smiled comfortingly. _"I will shut down your ability now."_ Emerald-green mist clouded the basilisk's vision momentarily and evaporated. _"It's done."_

" _That was fast. And I can still see. Would you like the venom now?"_

" _Please."_

Loki removed a small dagger from his hip, placing it flat on his palms and presented it as if an offering. He let the snake sniff at the object. Once satisfied, it bared its fangs, saliva dripping. Loki scratched the blade on a fang with feather-light movements, all grace and precision.

" _It is done. Thank you."_

The basilisk seemed thoughtful for a _moment. "You're different, human."_

" _It's because I'm not a human, and I am not originally from this world. I am Loki of Asgard."_

" _Oh? Where is Asgard?"_

" _Somewhere far away, with open fields where you can freely hunt and roll under the sun or make a shelter in nearby caves."_

" _I like this Asgard."_

" _Good. I'll be bringing you there to your new home. If you don't mind?"_

" _Home?"_

" _Yes. Asgard will be your new home. You are not fit to simply live underground. It'll be a waste."_

" _My Master will forbid it."_

" _We'll take care of him."_ Loki smirked at this.

The expression didn't go unnoticed by Tom whose face contorted into another bout of fury mixed with confusion at the basilisk that never again moved to bite Loki's head off when he was right in front of it.

Tom hissed another command to kill and rip.

" _I'm sorry. Bear with the pain a little more. I'll have him destroyed,"_ Loki promised.

…

Harry, who faithfully remained behind Professor Loki, stared at him in shock at the turn of events.

"Keep the sword away and take this." Professor Loki handed him the dagger with basilisk venom. "Look for the diary and destroy it."

"Diary?"

Professor Loki nodded patiently. "That's where he resides, and that's what keeps him alive." He gestured at Tom. "Do it, and we'll be rid of him."

Without further ado, Harry shot past him and the basilisk, and to Tom Riddle's horror, towards the diary at the other end of the chamber by the shallow pond.

Tom, in possession of Harry's wand, sent a binding spell that narrowly missed Harry. Tom followed it with a strong stunning spell that went past the running boy, hitting one of the stone serpent heads. Harry ducked from the stray debris but was grazed below the back of his neck.

Harry winced at the sudden pain but went on, clutching tightly on the knife as Tom yelled, " _Bombarda!_ "

His legs seemed so short and the diary too far away. He could barely register Tom turning in disbelief at the basilisk when it defied his commands to rip Professor Loki in half and go after Harry.

Ron met him halfway then; a truly welcoming sight of the redhead picking up the diary and throwing it at Harry in a flurry. Harry caught it with his Seeker reflex, opening it in haste that should have torn the diary apart.

"No!"

Without missing a beat, Harry brought down the blade at the very heart of it. It felt like he was meant to do this all along, and his mind darkly supplied whether he would tear Voldemort's heart the same way after everything he put Harry into—if Voldemort even _has_ a heart, for that matter.

Ink oozed akin to blood pouring out as Tom Riddle's apparition screamed as if in intense pain, his form cracking until he was destroyed piece by piece. There was a bright shine before he was completely obliterated into nothing before Harry's eyes.

A heavy silence passed before Ron exclaimed, "Ginny!"

Harry's chest thundered when Ron brought her nearer. She looked paler—or rather her pallor was now of bluish hue. Both Harry and Ron knew it was a bad sign.

"Professor," Ron wailed at Professor Loki's approach. He shook his sister in an attempt to wake her.

Harry's breath hitched. Was this it? Were they too late?

The phoenix, almost forgotten with its silent flight, landed beside Ginny's head. Its beady, intelligent eyes looked down at her, and to Harry's surprise drops of tears fell exactly on Ginny's slightly parted lips.

Her skin escaped from its deathly shade, turning pale until color returned to her cheeks gradually. Her weak breathing evened out, and her eyes fluttered briefly before closing again and settling to a deep sleep.

"Phoenix tears. Healing powers… I forgot," Professor Loki muttered, looking relieved behind his cool exterior.

"Sir? Where's the basilisk?"

Professor Loki was somewhat amused at the inquiry. "Here." He lifted up his sleeve where a small snake crawled on his forearm, coiling around his wrist.

It was identical to the basilisk, only smaller. Harry gasped in realization.

"You made it small?" came Ron's incredulous expression. "I thought they're immune to magic?"

"I have to sneak him out. Difficult to do when he's meters long," was Professor Loki's reply that didn't really answer Ron's question.

If anything though, it only made Ron admire their DADA professor more.

When he thought about it, Harry did too.

* * *

"I hope you're not looking for a way to give me detention," Loki remarked dryly upon finishing the retelling of events that had transpired.

"That can wait, professor, seeing as I'm glad you four made it safely."

"Five," Loki corrected. "I brought the creature safely as well."

"Five then," Merlin agreed softly, sitting down on an arm chair. "So you already encountered him. Who would have thought he would show this early?"

"Us."

Merlin sighed tiredly that wasn't from aiding with un-petrifying the victims.

"He's clever, I'll give him that," Loki said. "Tearing his own soul into parts was becoming the most plausible tactic that he used."

Merlin had to conceal his disgust on how Voldemort dabbled with the Dark Arts of Old Religion. "And we don't know how many."

"We will," Loki said confidently. "Preferably before he assembles himself again." He recalled leaving his dagger with the basilisk venom to Harry for safekeeping and for Harry's own defense in case of another encounter with Voldemort.

"And something tells me it'll be sooner than we expected," Merlin said gravely.

"For the meantime, I have to leave you. I'll be looking into something as well that could possibly help our cause."

"Back to Asgard?"

"Back to Asgard."

…

" _Are you my new Master?"_

" _No."_

" _The boy?"_

" _Neither him. You will answer to no one but yourself from now on."_

The basilisk was quiet for a few seconds. _"Who are you to me?"_

" _A friend."_

" _Friend… Will you give me a name?"_

Loki's lips curled into another rare smile of his. _"Of course… Jörmungandr."_

* * *

 _ **end**_

* * *

 **To be continued at Harry's Third Year.**


	2. The Warlock and The Werewolf

Will follow the flow of Harry Potter Chamber of Secrets book. Merlin and Loki will take on the same appearance as in the BBC Merlin and MCU Loki, but Loki's abilities are based on the Norse Mythology and MCU combined. Multiple POVs. Some dialogs taken exactly from the book.

P.S. Unbeta-ed, and some grammar mistakes to be corrected later. Events are semi-canon compliant starting this part of the series.

 **Disclaimer:** Characters associated are not mine and belong to their respective owners.

* * *

"Hello, Arthur."

Merlin sat by the bank of the lake of Avalon, his fingers making circular ripples on the otherwise still surface. It has been quite some time since his last visit—on the Christmas term break of his first school year teaching at Hogwarts.

Bringing a large bouquet of yellow chrysanthemum and a single daffodil, Merlin hoped Arthur would forgive his absence.

He unbounded the bouquet, placing stem by stem onto the water and letting the flow carry them to the mound of earth where Arthur was buried under.

"I'm fine, if you're wondering. The children might be stressing sometimes, but I enjoy teaching them. It's something about their curiosity, you know?" Merlin said. "Ah, and their taste for grand adventures." He blinked, frowning a little. "Loki and I might be encouraging it though.

"You remember him, of course? He was with me during my stay at Hogwarts, taking the position of a professor as well. He's the same as ever, bit of a snob—must be a common trait among royals—but mischievous to the people he's close to, who, at the current time and place, includes only me. I'll be fixing that, no worries. Would you believe that he let a false rumor ran wild? That prat.

"He won't be around this school year. He's back in Asgard, tending to his new snake. It's a basilisk, actually; instant death upon eye contact, does it ring a bell by any chance? We were quite lucky not to encounter one before, eh? It would be quite difficult to protect you from _that_.

"I'll be on my own at Hogwarts this year. Don't get me wrong. The professors are nice, with some who could do with a bit more sunshine, but overall, they're good people. It's just that last year it was like only Loki and I, and you know how different we are from the rest. That was an error of ours, I think. With our secret campaign against Voldemort, we could do with more allies and friends who share our cause. I promise that I'll be fixing that this year.

"The novelty of Hogwarts to me never faded, I realized, despite being here for the third time now. Perhaps it has something to do with seeing magic running freely, practiced and honed by talented children, and taught by learned adults. Look how far the world has come to, Arthur. I am glad to live and witness it.

"Though if there is one regret that I have, it is you not being here with me to see it as well."

* * *

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, Merlin was immediately greeted by the Headmaster.

"Good afternoon, Professor Emrys," Dumbledore said, smiling welcomingly. "You are early."

"Good afternoon, Headmaster." Merlin smiled back. "There's nothing much to do at home when you're living alone."

"Then you will forgive an old man for assuming that there was somebody waiting for a young man like you back at home."

Merlin sheepishly touched his nape. "It's alright. I'm sure that my parents would have pushed me to that direction too."

Dumbledore, thankfully, refrained from asking the health of Merlin's parents. He perfectly understood the context of that statement.

"Did somebody already arrive?" Merlin asked, changing the subject.

"Professor Snape is always the first to come back. One could say he's excited to teach again, no matter what they say about him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"I won't blame Professor Snape though. Even _I_ am looking forward to another year," Merlin said. "Speaking of which, Headmaster, will there be a substitute for Professor Loki?"

"It has been taken care of, Professor Emrys. He's an alumnus of the school and was in the same year as Professor Snape. It took me some time to track him down, but I'm confident that he'll be as good as Professor Loki. Though he might find it difficult to adjust, I do hope he finds a friend in you, and you as well in him."

"Of course, Headmaster," Merlin assured him. "When will he be arriving?"

"His name is Remus John Lupin," Dumbledore informed him. "He'll be arriving with the students aboard the Hogwarts Express."

Merlin could have been mistaken, but it seemed as if he heard the name before.

Dumbledore regarded Merlin briefly. "If you'll pardon me, there's a favor I need to ask of you, professor."

Merlin watched as Dumbledore pulled a roll of newspaper from his sleeve. He smoothed out the paper and handed it to Merlin.

He was presented with the front page displaying a man who was screaming and struggling against what seemed to be Aurors. The caption said it was Sirius Black, a wizard sent to Azkaban after murdering thirteen people in one blow, and was a known supporter of Voldemort. Sirius Black, who gained the reputation of being Voldemort's notorious right-hand man, escaped two days ago, throwing the Wizarding World in frenzy.

Merlin paused. He knew this man. This was the very same person accused to have sold the Potters to Voldemort.

This was Harry's godfather!

"Sirius Black is yet to be found, but the Ministry is doing everything they can to catch him. Their methods, though, left much to be desired," Dumbledore told him gravely. "Tomorrow, Dementors will be sent to station around Hogwarts in search of Sirius Black. Unfortunately, they will also include the Hogwarts Express in their inspection."

"The train? Why will they be searching among the students?"

"They are under the notion that he'll be going after Harry Potter, first and foremost. The Ministry's logic included Sirius Black boarding the Hogwarts Express," Dumbledore said in a weary tone.

 _Is there nothing you can do?_ Merlin wanted to ask, but he realized it was a stupid question, for Dumbledore must have, as Merlin could clearly feel the old wizard's anger. "Would you like me to be there with Professor Lupin?"

"If you do not mind, I would appreciate your presence with them," Dumbledore said gratefully.

Merlin gave a small reassuring smile. "I don't mind, Headmaster. Besides, it's a chance for me to know Professor Lupin as well."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Thank you, Professor Emrys."

* * *

Merlin still has a lot of questions left unanswered.

First was how could someone escape Azkaban. Merlin knew of its reputation to house known wizard criminals, except Grindelwald. Azkaban's impenetrability must have come from its choice of guards, the Dementors, who were neither living nor dead. Some would agree with Merlin that they were rather foul creatures, siphoning happiness from a person; worst, their soul. Merlin never approved of the method, but he wouldn't deny their effectiveness either.

For Sirius Black to escape without damage after being with Dementors for twelve years would be a miracle, and thinking about it only brought up more questions.

Another thing that kept nagging on Merlin was Sirius Black's relation to Harry. It wasn't much known—behind gratuitous tabloids and claims regarding Sirius Black being a high ranking official among the Death Eaters—that the man was the godfather of The Boy Who Lived and was a close friend of the boy's parents. Was his relationship with them merely a ruse? Oh, Merlin was aware of those built by lies and deception, but to truly betray a friend…

Though who was he kidding exactly? He knew firsthand that people could change for the worst. He had Morgana and Mordred to remind him of that. How was it impossible that the same happened to Sirius Black?

Merlin was interrupted by the incoming steam train—the Muggle ones that reminded him that he was yet to cross the barrier.

After stepping to the other side, he was met with the sight of swarm of students. The train has arrived, with farewells from students to their families being exchanged left and right. Merlin looked around for the three familiar heads but was unable to find them.

He did, however, caught glimpse of platinum blond.

It was Draco accompanied by two people who must be his parents; one was a beautiful woman with aristocratic features, while the man was somebody Merlin knew. He remembered Lucius Malfoy with dismay, especially the events of an evening months ago at Hagrid's hut.

Merlin waited until the last of students boarded the train, jumping in a few seconds before the train started to move. He wasn't banking on getting a compartment with free space for one more person, and he didn't really mind standing for a few hours. If there was one thing that he would never get tired of was the scenery the Hogwarts Express was passing by.

Expectedly, there were no seats left, but moving from car to car, he was actually hoping to find the other professor aboard and to note where he was situated. The Headmaster wasn't specific of the time when the Dementors would arrive, and Merlin would rather be prepared by then.

Merlin stopped at the third to the last compartment and peered inside. This seemed to be where Draco and his friends were. He was about to move to the next one when he was suddenly called.

"Professor!"

It was Draco's exiting his compartment to look at him. There was a ghost of a grin on his face and an odd sort of relief.

When he appeared to have caught his own expression though, his face returned to its trademark disinterested look with a hint of a sneer.

 _Too late for that_ , Merlin thought amusedly.

"Hello, Draco. Had a great summer?" Merlin asked.

"It's alright," came the reply. Draco shrugged, trying to show nonchalance and crossing his arms. "You?"

Merlin was mature enough to not grin at Draco's obvious attempt at sounding haughty. "Good. Sadly, I didn't get a tan."

Draco only looked at him confusedly.

"It's a Muggle tradition to go to the beach during summer. They go for a swim while some sunbathe, or you can do a little of both. But you can get a tan while in the waters, especially when the sun is blaring."

"Oh," Draco murmured. "Must be—"

"Fun?" Merlin supplied cheekily.

The younger man rolled his eyes. "I was going to say stupid."

"Is it now? People like us who are born pale could do with some color occasionally, don't you think?"

Draco didn't dignify him with an answer, sending him a scowl. "Aren't you looking for a compartment?" He grumbled. "Sir?"

Merlin's face broke into a grin. "I was looking, yes."

"We have a free seat," Draco muttered, almost annoyed if Merlin didn't know better.

"Are you asking me to join you?"

Draco looked more stricken than ever, and while Merlin didn't want to lay off from teasing him entirely, he decided the boy must have an entire day worth of it from dealing with him alone.

"I mean, sure. Won't your friends mind though? Professors are not really fun to be with outside school."

"They won't mind as long as I said so."

Merlin followed him in, prompting Draco's companions quiet. The girl, Parkinson, was sending Draco inquisitive stares as if asking for an explanation to Merlin's presence.

"Professor Emrys will be joining us. Everywhere is full," was Draco's clipped answer, and that was it.

Merlin smiled warmly. "Thank you for the invite, Mister Malfoy. Hello to you too, Miss Parkinson, Mister Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle."

He received curt nods in return and more uncertainty on how to act with a professor present.

"Will Professor Loki handle DADA again?" Parkinson piped up, startling Draco. Merlin didn't know what Draco's disapproving glare was for. "…Sir?"

"Unfortunately, he won't be joining us for this year," Merlin replied apologetically. "He went home to attend some family matters. He thinks his father has a lot to say to his sudden absence."

Parkinson looked utterly disappointed.

"Don't worry, he'll be back on your fourth year while a substitute will be handling the subject for this term."

"Who will it be then, the substitute?"

"The Headmaster mentioned his name—Professor Remus John Lupin."

Zabini scrunched his face in disdain. "Sounds like a Muggle-born name."

"Will there be a problem if he is a Muggle or a half?" Merlin inquired gently.

Zabini didn't answer him, pointedly looking on the greenery outside and the darkening skies. They were near to crossing the bridge, and after that it would be a much smoother ride.

"I was hoping to meet him here. The Headmaster told me Professor Lupin would be riding the train," Merlin continued.

Draco turned to him, puzzled. "You were already at Hogwarts?"

Merlin nodded cheerfully. "Been there two days ago to drop my things."

"Then what are you doing here?" Draco's lips twitched. "Sir."

"Scenery." Merlin gestured at the window. "Mister Zabini can tell you how nice it is."

Parkinson concealed a giggle, though it wasn't really hard to miss given that they weren't quite the talkative bunch. Merlin realized that Crabbe and Goyle have been quiet for a while. Their attention, he found out, was on an issue of _Daily Prophet_ , the same one Dumbledore had shown him last time.

Draco scowled at seeing Crabbe and Goyle poring over Sirius Black's image at the front page. Immediately, he demanded that the newspaper was to be handed back to him. The two cowered under Draco's glare, promptly returning the newspaper without a word.

"Sirius Black?" Parkinson asked curiously, turning at Draco without heed to his scathing look. "Isn't he a relative of yours?"

Merlin's interest was piqued.

"Only by my mother," Draco snapped. "And he has been officially removed from the Black for being a blood-traitor. He's no longer a family," he added coldly, and that was the end of conversation.

Draco looked as if he was daring Merlin to say something when he caught his gaze lingering on him. Merlin silently assured him that he wouldn't press on.

No matter how more and more confusing the identity of Sirius Black was becoming to him.

Draco called him a blood-traitor, and such title wasn't easily warranted. Merlin knew of wizarding families who claimed their blood too pure to be tarnished with the none-pure—Muggles or half—and the practice of maintaining their blood purity was common to the old, noble wizarding families.

And then there were what these so called nobles call blood-traitors, the Pure-blooded wizards who have no qualms mingling with Muggles and half-bloods. One prominent example was the Weasleys for their love of Muggles.

Which only caused Merlin's respect for their kind to grow.

It also brought him back to Sirius Black once again.

Merlin didn't get the chance to ponder on it when the Hogwarts Express suddenly halted with a loud screech.

As if on cue, the lights blacked out as frost lined on the glass of the window, obscuring the view outside as wisps of ice formed and thickened.

"What's going on?" Parkinson asked aloud, her breath coming out in cold puffs of air.

Merlin quickly casted both warming and illumination charm on the whole compartment, heating their space like a campfire. Merlin asked them to huddle together, and they complied obediently.

"Stay here," he said to them. "I'll go out and check."

He actually didn't have to; he was pretty sure of what caused the abrupt drop in temperature.

Merlin performed a nonverbal spell once his back was on them. The doors were stuck with frost that he had to give a more forceful budge to open it.

To his relief, there was no student loitering outside the compartments. It was dim and frigid, giving the hallway a haunted atmosphere.

As if all the happiness left the place.

Merlin locked each set of doors with a murmur as he passed by. He was yet to see a Dementor, but the students would be a lot safer locked in.

At the other end of the train, Merlin spotted a glow of white light hitting a dark blur. He ran towards it and stopped once he got a closer look.

It was a Dementor that appeared to have come from a compartment and was fended away by the bluish-light hurtled its way. The bright glow shunned the Dementor, making it flee straight to Merlin's path.

Instinctively, Merlin's magic came forth to protect him, sending the Dementor a blast of force focused on it alone, disintegrating the cloaked creature in a matter of seconds.

As the last of its body dissolved, Merlin used his wand to illuminate the area. Upon alighting the path, he came face to face with a man standing outside the open compartment the Dementor had been from.

"Are you alright?" asked the man in a hoarse voice, the shivering flame on his hand turned brighter. "There was a Dementor here."

With their combined light, Merlin could clearly see the man's features of tousled toffee-colored hair as if he was asleep not long ago, with a face etched with concern and old lines of scars running across his skin. His chocolate-brown eyes swept across Merlin in search of possible harm taken before his gaze widened a fraction, bemused, causing his pupils to appear in the shade of amber from Merlin's angle.

"Oh, uh, yes, there was," Merlin said. "It left when it saw me. Was it from here?"

"Yes." Merlin would probably correct in his guess that it was this man who drove the Dementor away. He stared, a nagging thought in his mind telling him he had seen this man before, many years ago. "If you will please come in and join them." The man gestured vaguely at the open door. "One fell unconscious all of a sudden. And I need to speak to the driver."

Merlin caught himself, stepping past the man to go in.

"I'll be right back. Please look after them for a while."

Merlin was met with the sight of five huddled children, not quite unlike Draco and his friends' position, only these students were looking more miserable and were shivering. Two were on the floor, shaking, and Merlin recognized them as Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. Almost hugging were Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, and lying on the seat, passed out, was Harry Potter.

Merlin casted the same warming spell and intensified it a notch for the effect to take place faster. It warmed them greatly, it seemed, as he helped Ron and Neville to their seats on the other side of Harry's. He conjured a large red blanket to place around the conscious boys' shoulders and did the same for the two girls. He checked on Harry and found him cocooned in a black coat that was too large for his frame. Merlin supposed it was from the man. He smiled at the gesture.

When the lights flickered back on, he heaved a sigh of relief, noticing that the frost encrusted on the window receded until there was only the _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ of raindrops hitting the glass.

Merlin's palm went to Harry's forehead. His skin was cold. Merlin's hand did its job of placing a soothing touch, with some of his healing magic working. Harry's forehead warmed and was faintly and briefly bathed in golden glow. The back of Merlin's hand brushed softly the scar that made the boy famous.

"How is he?" the man from before—which Merlin has an inkling now who might be—asked from behind Merlin.

"He's resting for now," Merlin answered. "Is everyone alright?"

The man nodded, giving a small smile in assurance. "Nobody else fell unconscious." His eyes darted to Harry. "Only him."

"What happened?"

"Prolonged exposure to the Dementor," he said. Merlin noticed him hesitating. "It was as if it attacked him."

 _That would explain it,_ Merlin thought both sadly and internally furious. He couldn't understand how it was possible. Dementors were foul, yes, but the Ministry was confident they could be handled, and these creatures never stepped out of line of their "duties".

"He should be alright once Madame Pomfrey sees to him," Merlin said, absently brushing Harry's long bangs. He looked at the man _—Professor Lupin_ , he corrected himself—and smiled. "This isn't exactly the first meeting I have in mind, Professor Lupin." Merlin stood, holding out a hand. "Professor Emrys, but you can call me Emrys. It's a pleasure meeting you, professor."

Lupin shook the proffered hand. "Please. Lupin will do." He noted the other students blearily watching their exchange. They were in better condition, anyhow, and were shifting uncomfortably on their seats like they were rudely awakened.

Hermione quickly moved from under her blanket to loom over Harry worriedly. Ron followed soon with Neville and Ginny, and Merlin allowed them the space, standing beside Lupin.

Merlin watched from the sidelines as Harry slowly wakened under the dull shake of the train as it continued on its way. He leaned on a wall, witnessing Lupin breaking a slab of chocolate, parting it equally among the children and saying it would help; chocolate produces serotonin, the chemical that triggers happiness. Lupin saved a cut and offered it to Merlin.

"For me?" Merlin asked, surprised. "It's alright. I wasn't exposed to the Dementor."

"I insist," Lupin said gently. "And you _did_ face one."

"Well… yes. Okay. Thank you." Merlin took the piece and broke it in half, nudging to Lupin. "You need it too, professor."

Lupin chuckled weakly. "Alright."

…

"Are you alright, professor?" Emrys asked from beside Remus.

"Yes. Exhausted, that's all," Remus said mildly. "It has been a tiresome day."

He closed his eyes when they began to feel heavy. It was a rough full moon the other night, and his body was still aching on certain places. His scratches at the back must have opened again, for he could smell the coppery scent of blood. With the wolf remaining this close on the surface, Remus found it difficult to have a shut-eye. The wolf was practically growling, in fact.

Remus would have understood the wolf's mistrust in the presence of his fellow professor (he looked young, he realized). The wolf only trusted its pack. But he couldn't understand the apparent fury of the wolf. Remus could feel its animosity towards the other as well as how very much alert it was; a complete opposite of the drowsiness Remus's human body was experiencing.

"How long have you been teaching?" Remus asked the younger man, in hopes of fighting sleepiness. He wanted to at least get a meal before bed.

"I replaced Professor Binns only a year ago," Emrys said. "It was an honor to have him as my predecessor."

"Professor Binns? About time he retired. The poor man was too dedicated to even notice his death. I still remembered him floating to class and passing through walls during my student days." Remus fondly recalled his friends poking the ghost professor with their wands without him knowing.

Emrys gave a grin and perked up. "I did hear from the Headmaster that you were a student of Hogwarts before. What house?"

"I was in Gryffindor." Remus suppressed another memory bubbling in his head. "If you do not mind me asking, do you have a relative who had been a student at Hogwarts?"

 _Emrys_.

The name wasn't exactly lost to Remus. He was fascinated with the tales of King Arthur and Merlin since he was a child. Emrys was but another name of the greatest wizard of all time. Though he wasn't aware _Emrys_ became a family name. Was the professor Muggle-born with that surname perhaps? But then it wouldn't fit on his first assumption—Emrys looked familiar, resembling a schoolmate and a fellow prefect back in Remus's Hogwarts days.

"Why do you ask?" Emrys blinked, startled.

Remus shrugged. "You happen to resemble somebody I know. I would have mistaken you for him, except that he should be as old as me by now, if not a few years older. His name is Arthur Collins if I'm right."

"Er..." Emrys scratched the back of his head. "That's him. My uncle."

 _Uncle._ Remus supposed that would explain it. "How is he by the way?" Remus, with his natural perceptiveness, noticed the slight nervousness Emrys was expertly keeping from him.

"He's dead," Emrys answered shortly. "A few years back, he caught an incurable dragon pox."

Remus reminded himself that it must have been a sensitive subject that shouldn't be brought up again. "I'm sorry."

Emrys shook his head. "It's alright." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Were you two close?" There was something on his tone. _Guilt?_

"I'd like to think we were acquaintances at least, because while we never really spoke beyond our prefect duties, and he was two years ahead of me so we were never in the same class, he did help me before on Potions. He liked to keep his presence low all the time, no matter how brilliant he was, as if he was afraid of standing out when he actually did without deliberation." Remus's lips quirked to a smile. "I think that quality made me idolize him more."

It was easy to miss at the dim evening, but Remus caught a glimpse of a tinge of pink coloring Emrys's pale cheeks. Remus tried not to stare, not wanting to embarrass the young man further. Whatever could have caused him to react as such?

Remus's gaze strayed upwards. He regarded, with no small amount of displeasure, the Dementors overhead. "They're here too, I see."

"They're trying hard to catch him," Emrys stated, his tone oddly distant. "Sirius Black."

Remus's mind supplied unhelpfully that Sirius was too clever to be caught, if his escape from their territory hasn't made it clear yet. Besides, if he was truly determined to get Harry…

Remus didn't want to dwell on that particular line of thought. Dumbledore asked him to teach for a reason outside parting knowledge to the students. If Sirius was to be here, then Remus would be ready for him.

A persistent thought has been occurring these past few days, something that he couldn't put off with the two sides of him warring against each other: the loyal Marauder side and the adult Remus Lupin in him.

Unfortunately, it was the Marauder side that kept telling him not to divulge Sirius Black's secret to Dumbledore.

…

As Harry stepped down from the coach, he paused with distaste as he saw Malfoy looking at him oddly, which Ron and Hermione didn't notice. For a second, Harry thought he would insult him in that drawling voice of his, especially when Crabbe and Goyle joined his side and whispered something that made the two snigger.

Against Harry's expectations though, Malfoy didn't. He merely glared at the two larger teens and stalked off, much to Harry and even Crabbe and Goyle's surprise.

Harry completely forgot the weird encounter when Professor McGonagall asked the trio to come see her at her office. At first, he thought they were in trouble (for what, he didn't know), but the Deputy Headmistress assured them it would only be to have a word.

Once in her office Professor McGonagall informed them of Professor Lupin sending an owl beforehand, telling them what happened. Madame Pomfrey soon entered the office, and Harry felt even more embarrassed to be fussed at.

"Well, you're in good shape," the Mediwitch said. "I'd say I wouldn't know you got ill if not for Professor Lupin's letter. But you should have chocolate at least."

"Professor Lupin gave me some," Harry said. "He and Professor Emrys were there when I passed out. Professor Lupin said Professor Emrys looked after me while I was unconscious."

"It's good to know our DADA substitute knows his remedies. He will be different from your last, but I'm sure he'll be just as competent." Madame Pomfrey hummed approvingly. "And it was also good that Professor Emrys was aboard too."

Harry was glad too that they were there. But while he wasn't feeling as terrible as he thought when he came to consciousness, he couldn't shake from his mind the scream only he heard. It was a woman's scream, and the fact that he was the only person who heard it caused even more unease.

They missed the sorting, and upon their entrance to the Great Hall, Harry was already treated to surreptitiously pointed fingers at him and hushed whispers that he was sure about his fainting at the train. Determined to ignore them, he slid quietly at their places at the Gryffindor table.

It wasn't long when Dumbledore ascended the podium, beaming at the students before giving his usual speech of rules and regulations for the first years and most especially to those who kept refraining to heed them.

On a more serious note, Dumbledore mentioned the Dementors stationed around Hogwarts per Ministry's orders. Dumbledore heavily advised to tread carefully around the Dementors since they couldn't understand pleading and excuses and were not fooled by any kind of deception. Dumbledore blandly included the use of invisibility cloak, in which Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

Dumbledore then welcomed not only one but two new professors. He first introduced Professor Lupin, who wasn't popular with his shabby clothes compared to his fellow staff, and was met with unenthusiastic applause from those who missed Professor Loki terribly. Harry and those with him at the compartment were the only people to clap the loudest. Professor Emrys, who was sitting beside Professor Lupin, gave the new professor a thumbs up when he humbly returned to his seat.

At Professor Lupin's introduction, Ron nudged Harry, pointing at Snape specifically.

It was common knowledge that the Potion Master wanted the DADA position, but the scathing look he sent Professor Lupin's way was beyond anger. It was pure loathing, the kind he reserved for Harry alone.

Dumbledore announced the second new appointment, and to the trio's utter delight, it was Hagrid who would be handling the Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid stood with his enormous built, waving in appreciation to the Gryffindor table which held the loudest cheers.

They should have known, because who else would assign a biting book?

The feast began exactly when Harry began feeling ravenous. At the same time, he, Ron, and Hermione were eager to finish the feast to talk to Hagrid.

They approached the teachers' table once they got their chance to personally congratulate Hagrid. It was a dream of his, he said, and Harry didn't doubt that.

Ushered by Percy to the dormitories, Harry landed on the soft mattress of his bed with a content sigh.

That night, he fell asleep easily—his most peaceful since the past week.

He was home.

* * *

The following morning, Merlin had woken up shortly after dawn to get the freshest of fruits from the market near Hogsmeade. He bought a basket full of various kind and a pound of red meat from a single vendor whose stand was one of the few that was up at the early hours. The kind old lady smiled fondly at Merlin, bidding him a pleasant day.

Merlin returned to his office, not yet going straight to Hagrid's even if he knew the gamekeeper was already up and about. His present for the gentle giant was still incomplete.

Merlin pulled out a suitcase underneath the bed. It appeared normal on the outside, but it was in fact an entrance to a small room filled with shelves of tinctures and potions Merlin made throughout the years. The suitcase was an idea he got decades ago from a young wizard carrying a bunch of creatures in his suitcase, and when he thought about it, that young wizard and Hagrid were quite similar in terms of interest.

Recognizing Hagrid's fondness to treat and take care of magical creatures, Merlin got what he has on curing unicorn injuries and potions that could be used on hounds in case of emergency for Fang. Merlin also gathered potent potions that could be helpful to centaurs and any other close kin of horses. He didn't forget the thestrals that were also under Hagrid's care.

Merlin was finally satisfied when he filled a box with vials, tying the box with a cord before carrying it. He didn't meet anybody on his way to Hagrid's hut despite the sun being up an hour ago.

Merlin knocked thrice before he was answered by a disheveled Hagrid who was surprised upon seeing him at his doorsteps.

"Sorry. Did I catch you at a bad time?" Merlin said.

"Oh, no, no, professor. I jus' finished feeding the thestrals so I haven't cleaned me'self." Hagrid opened the door wider. "C'min, professor."

"Thank you." Once Merlin entered the hut, he presented his gifts. "Here, as congratulations to you, _professor_." He winked.

"Yeh shouldn't have bothered, professor," Hagrid said, grateful and in awe once he opened the box of vials while Merlin fed the red meat to Fang. "Are these—"

"Hmm? Oh, those are some potions I made myself. A few were experiments of mine combining both Muggle and magical medication. Now, I'm not as adept in potion making compared to Professor Snape, but I hope they help if ever—which I hope won't happen—any of your children are in need of medical attention."

Hagrid sniffed at Merlin's choice of wording for his creatures. "Yes, me children." He turned his watery eyes to Emrys. "I don't know how ter thank yeh, professor."

"It's Emrys. We're both professors now," Merlin reminded him cheerfully. "And tea is enough for me." He grinned.

They talked over a cup of tea and a plate of treacle tart. Its texture was far from perfect, but Merlin appreciated the hospitality and the effort put into it knowing Hagrid made it himself.

"So this afternoon will be your first class then?" Merlin asked.

Hagrid took a huge gulp of his tea. "Yes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione will be there, but I'm nerv'us still," he admitted.

"You'll be fine," Merlin assured him. "It's normal to be nervous. I was anxious too on my first day. You know your stuff, Hagrid, and just keep on doing what you're best at. The only difference is that you have an audience now on your day to day activities."

"Was thinking of somat diff'rent on the firs' day." At Merlin's nod of encouragement, Hagrid continued, "I want them ter meet a hippogriff."

"Wow." Merlin had heard of them, but he rarely encountered one. It just reminded him that no matter the number of years he has been around, there were still some things he was yet to experience.

"Would yeh like to see Buckbeak?"

"Now?"

"If yeh want. It's alright if—"

"Please lead the way then," Merlin eagerly said.

…

Merlin was lead to a clearing near the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. The sunlight peeked through the leaves of the tall trees, bathing the area in a surreal light where a hippogriff emerged and stood majestically.

He remembered when he first saw a unicorn, when he thought it was the most beautiful sight he landed his eyes on; it still was, only that it was no longer alone among all of what Merlin had seen.

"They're proud cre'tures, professor," Hagrid told him when Merlin approached the hippogriff slowly. "Like Buckbeak here. He wants ter be bowed at firs' before—oh."

Buckbeak tilted his head at Merlin, blinking his golden eyes at him before bowing low first at Merlin. Merlin returned the gesture politely. Buckbeak proceeded to bare his neck at Merlin, in which the latter took as a sign that he was allowed to touch the hippogriff.

"I've never seen Buckbeak this close ter stran'ers," Hagrid said, in awe. "Yeh're a natural, professor."

Merlin laughed softly. "He's fascinating, Hagrid."

When Buckbeak nuzzled Merlin's neck, Merlin felt his day already made.

…

At breakfast, there were two professors already present—Professor Snape and Professor Lupin.

Merlin happily trudged towards Snape's seat and gave the sullen man a jovial greeting. Merlin was in high spirits because of Buckbeak that he didn't mind the curt _good morning_ and the accompanying sneer he received in return.

Grinning, he sat beside Lupin who was quite amused at the exchange and was looking at Merlin with newfound respect.

"Good morning, Emrys."

"Good morning, Lupin." Merlin smirked. He paused. There was some color on the DADA professor's cheeks now, and his ragged look lessened. The bags underneath his eyes remained, but overall, Lupin looked healthier compared yesterday.

Lupin seemed to know what Merlin was thinking. "It has been a while since I slept soundly."

"I noticed," Merlin said, biting on his toast with a small smile. "It did you good."

Lupin nodded in agreement, and that was the end of the subject. "Do you have classes today?"

"First years Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. You?"

"Fourth years, same houses." Lupin took a sip of tea. "I don't think I won't be able to keep up to Professor Loki. I heard he was proficient in handling the curriculum, and it's obvious that he's popular to them."

Merlin snorted. "Don't mind him. His teaching style is different and so do yours. And I'm sure you're a practical type of professor too." He smiled encouragingly. "It's not a competition of who's the best. You'll be fine," he said.

"We'll see," Lupin said. "I heard you two applied together at Hogwarts."

"We did. But if you ask him, he'll tell you that I dragged him along, and that he had no choice. Of course, he won't admit that he did it for his friend."

Lupin didn't comment, but Merlin could see the knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no, I know that look," Merlin said accusingly. He winced. "That talk is still going around?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Lupin said far too innocently.

"For the record, no, we're not involved. I don't even know where that rumor came from." Merlin stabbed the scrambled egg with his fork. "Why can't they see that we're two close friends? I mean, he's like my brother from another mother."

Lupin hummed noncommittally. He looked rather far away for a short while, picking at his food. "I had three of those too. Once," he murmured, too quietly that Merlin almost missed it.

Obviously, it a touchy subject to pursue. Merlin was thankful for the arrival of the Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall, and the Headmaster. Lupin and he exchanged good mornings with them until more arrive and took their respective places on the table. More and more students arrived at the Great Hall.

Owls flew overhead, mostly on the long tables of children, and a handful on the faculty table. Merlin's tawny owl, Lancelot, dropped a subscription of _Daily Prophet_ at his lap.

A different headline, yet very much meant the same since the beginning of the week, could be found at the front page.

 **SIRIUS BLACK STILL AT LARGE**

A curious gaze landed on Merlin as he read another article concerning the Ministry's doubled efforts (that yielded no results) on catching Black, and yet another biased speculation of the writer as to why Black deserved the kiss of the Dementor. Merlin knew of this punishment, and it wasn't something he supported. No living person deserved to have their soul gradually taken from them.

"Do you think he really deserve it?" Lupin asked softly, his gaze unwavering at the article Merlin was reading. Merlin could detect a hint of strain, as if his own words were causing him pain to force out.

He folded the newspaper, keeping the headline away from his own eyes. "No, I don't," Merlin answered a while later. "Nobody does. You might hate me for this, but I don't think even Voldemort deserve it." Lupin didn't flinch at the name, and Merlin admired him for it. "I don't believe that anybody was born evil, and the proof is the soul. It's the purest thing when we were born… so the choice to taint it is on our hands alone." He smiled sadly. "Through our way of living and the choices we make." He first saw it from Morgana, followed by Mordred. There was a spectrum of differences between Voldemort and Merlin's former nemeses, but he did understand that the circumstances that made them into what they came out to be were how they were failed in their lives.

Or in Morgana and Mordred's cases, how they were failed by Merlin.

They were both his regrets that Merlin learned to live with in his immortal life.

"I see," was what Lupin simply said as he digested Merlin's words.

His expression barely changed, but Merlin could see relief that he couldn't help but think he unknowingly passed some sort of test.

"Would you like to have it?" Merlin pushed the newspaper to him. "I don't think we'll be seeing anything new for a while."

Lupin could only murmur thanks as he stared at the moving photo of Sirius Black.

…

"Now, is any of you familiar with Cornelius Sigan?"

Merlin was met with blank stares, which he already expected. The name wasn't included on the textbook they were using, and Sigan's name was too old to be recognized, and the dark wizard was long dead since before Merlin's days serving Arthur as a prince.

A pale arm shot up from the front row.

Merlin nodded at the girl encouragingly. She has a long dirty blond hair tied messily; her ears were adorned with radish earrings, while on her neck hung a necklace of butter beer caps, and her expression vacant. Merlin knew her.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

"His ring signet is a raven," she answered with her usual dreamy tone. "My dad said Sigan means raven."

Merlin heard snickering at the back and some whispers of _Looney Lovegood_ _and her dad_. He didn't call them out, though he has an idea who they might be.

The redhead girl beside Luna, Ginny Weasley, sent a scowl at the direction where she last heard the derisive nickname.

"One-point deduction to the house points of each student who participated in name-calling," Merlin announced calmly, effectively shutting the students up. He won't tolerate bullying in his own classroom. "And ten points to Ravenclaw for Miss Lovegood's answer, for knowing even Cornelius Sigan's ring signet. _Sigan_ indeed means raven in the language of Old Religion." He paced on front of the board. "The name was hardly mentioned since King Arthur's time. Understandable, since he was long dead even at King Uther's reign, but to those who remembered him at that era, they would have told you that Cornelius Sigan didn't have the best of reputations. He was a powerful dark wizard who believed in his strength and wealth. One of his mission in his life was to find a way to bring his wealth with him even after death. Or better yet, be an immortal.

"Now, why was he considered great? Well, he was one of the wizards who built Camelot. Though in the end, he cursed its fall upon his return to life."

"Did he, sir?" asked a male Gryffindor. "Did he return to life?"

"Good question, Creevy," Merlin said with a ghost of a grin. "He did. There was this wandering thief who took an interest particularly in the large blue jewel that was rumored to be lying on top of Sigan's tomb. This jewel turned out to be where Sigan placed his soul. When the thief touched it, he was taken over by Cornelius Sigan, and within twenty-four hours he attacked Camelot."

Merlin fondly noted the rapt faces of the class. He was told he has a knack for storytelling and has this kind of effect on his listeners.

"Who—How was he defeated, sir?"

"Merlin defeated him. By that time, Merlin was already in Camelot, though his magic remained uncontrolled and was greatly raw that Sigan sensed it. Sigan sought to take over Merlin's body and wield his magic for himself. He wasn't successful, obviously."

It wasn't clear to Merlin either how it happened. He was absolutely sure he had felt Sigan's soul had latched on to him. Sigan was powerful, on par with Nimueh perhaps when he was alive, but Merlin's young magic had driven the foreign soul out of his body in a matter of minutes.

He used to think that it was all because of the spell the dragon had breathed on him, and when Merlin figured out his real strength due to his immortality, he realized that the spell Kilgharrah had given him was nothing but to contain Sigan's invasive soul. Without it, Merlin's magical prowess alone would have destroyed the soul completely.

Merlin recalled feeling more hollow once finding out all there was to know about himself and his existence. He had a hard time to believe he was a being of pure magic of Old Religion, practically a part of nature.

Because with all that power in him, he couldn't save the single person who mattered the most.

…

Remus intended on basking in the afternoon sun when he saw the third years' Care of Magical Creatures class.

Hagrid was doing well for his fist lesson, with a hippogriff, no less. The gamekeeper has been a friend of the young Marauders on their years at Hogwarts. James and Sirius had taken interest on Hagrid's creatures, while Peter would stand beside Remus at the sidelines, fearful of the large creatures. Remus would always comfort him for it, with his own case the opposite—the creatures being afraid of the wolf in him as they seemed to be able to sense it.

His eyes found Harry among the bunch of Gryffindor and Slytherin. His resemblance to James brought memories that Remus treasured and some that he had been repressing. It took all of his will not to embrace tightly his late best friend's son the moment they met at the Hogwarts Express.

He remembered having little Harry in his arms gurgling on his drool in trying to pronounce Remus's nickname. Remus would always offer to lift him from Lily's whenever her arms were tired, when Harry was at that stage where he was beginning to get heavy for her. He and Sirius would take turns, occasionally arguing who Harry liked the most to carry him. If Sirius never failed to make him giggle when he would carry Harry like a flying plane, Remus never failed to put Harry asleep or calm him down from his sobbing. Remus's heart would warm at the sight of such innocence being comfortable in his presence.

Lily would idly point out sometimes that Remus and Sirius were acting more of a married couple over Harry, rather than the fun uncles Harry was supposed to have.

This led to their new monikers: _Dadfoot_ and _Moomy_.

He didn't hear the end of it from Sirius for a week, much to Remus's secret amusement. Sirius might be old enough to be a godfather, but his maturity remained that of a kid's.

Try as he might to deny it, Remus was missing him terribly. Because somewhere in that prisoner of Azkaban was Sirius Black who had been one of Remus's best friends; the one who replaced his bandages at the wounds he sustained at his back during particularly difficult full moons; the one who would secretly slip him white truffles he received from his female fans on Valentine's Day, knowing they were Remus's favorite among all the chocolates; the one who Remus shared blankets with when Sirius was having terrible nightmares, asking Remus timidly to sleep beside him; the one whose gaze Remus would feel at the back of his head and then would grin back shyly when Remus caught him at it; the one whose touches briefly lingered when their fingers accidentally brushed, or their shoulders bumped.

The one Remus has his own private connection to, just like how and Sirius and James relate with each other. Though theirs was labeled brotherly, Remus never cared to name what was between him and Sirius.

Even if in the end, they were nothing but ruse for Sirius to gain their trusts.

Remus watched with pride as Harry took off on air at the back of the hippogriff. Remus had heard Harry made it to Gryffindor's Quidditch team. He knew then that Harry was a natural at flying just like James had been.

He didn't cry at the surge of emotion—no, he was done with it the night of James and Lily's death that Remus thought his tears was long dried out. Though his chest was twisting painfully, he smiled against it.

He was given a chance to teach Harry, and while their relationship might never surpass that of a student and a teacher, he would give his best to protect the boy like his own.

If it would come down to facing Sirius Black, then so be it.

…

Merlin was on his three-hour break before his next class when he was hit with an inspiration to use his pensieve.

He had convinced himself to own one a few decades back. Not that he was having problems with his memory, but when one was at least a millennium old, he found it difficult to keep up with all their memories. In Merlin's case, where he created different identities for himself and each lived a lifespan of a mortal, he got into the habit of recording his experiences, including even the most mundane ones. Occasionally, he would look back at some his recollections and would be reminded of the simple things in life that made him happy. On most times, he would watch his memories of adventures as Prince Arthur's servant.

He decided to view a few selected memories on his days as Arthur Collins. During his second stay as a student in Hogwarts, he was a Ravenclaw Prefect under that name and was the uncle of his current persona, William Emrys, as what he told Lupin (which hopefully Lupin bought). Although his second time at Hogwarts was much of an experience as his first, there weren't much collection of memories on that particular time of his. Maybe this was also due to what Lupin mentioned about Arthur Collins trying not to stand out much, something Merlin wasn't aware he had consciously done then.

Merlin's interest was piqued by a memory stored in a vial labeled _b.b. 1976_. If his math was correct, he was on his seventh year by that time.

Pouring the contents, the memory clouded the surface of pensieve in an instant. And with a deep breath, Merlin plunged in.

It was dusk when Merlin found himself in an empty hallway where Arthur Collins was walking alone, carrying a few textbooks on potion-making and two literature books: _The Little Prince_ and _Titus Andronicus._ Merlin remembered thoroughly enjoying those.

As Merlin followed his younger self, there appeared to be nothing out of ordinary just yet. He walked beside Arthur until they arrived at the dungeons, stopping in a vacant potions classroom.

There was another student waiting inside, a boy younger than Arthur—a year or two, perhaps—with light brown hair and mildly scarred face. Amber eyes perked up from a book upon Arthur's arrival, and it was then that everything clicked to place in Merlin's head.

"Hello, Remus, you're early," Arthur commented, closing the door behind him.

"Hello, Arthur," the other boy greeted back, smiling.

Merlin couldn't believe what he saw. He did know Lupin after all! Lupin must be a fifth year by that time, also a prefect. Merlin watched in fascination at seeing the younger version of his fellow professor, patiently listening to every instruction Arthur was telling him. They were making a babbling beverage, it seemed (which explained the label of the memory), with Arthur guiding the young Lupin on how to properly brew it.

They finished within an hour, and with amusement Merlin noted how nervous Lupin looked while Arthur inspected the cauldron.

"I'm really bad at potions," Lupin admitted glumly.

Arthur hummed noncommittally. "I think that's why I'm here to aid you. And I'm honored that you asked me to." He smiled at Lupin as he leaned lightly to the bubbling mixture, smelling it. "I think you did well on this one." He nodded to himself. "Though as for the effectiveness, I think I should give this a try to see if it works. If it is, then you can submit this to Professor Slughorn."

"No!" Lupin exclaimed suddenly. "I mean, I know how terrible I am at this. What if I accidentally poisoned you?"

Arthur chuckled. "Then I'll have to risk it, don't I?"

"I'd rather you don't. I think I should be the one to test this."

Lupin snatched the glass with the freshly made babbling beverage, emptying it in one gulp. Lupin was clearly an expert in hiding the taste of the potion.

"Are you okay?" Merlin's younger self asked with concern after Lupin fell silent.

Lupin nodded absently. "Yeah, I am... Well, I _am_ alright after the potion but on everything else? Not much." He sighed. "I always worry for my grades at this subject. Do you know that I was tempted to ask Snape first? I may not be participating with James and Sirius's bullying of him, but I don't stop them either, so I know he hates me too. I was desperate to pull my grades, and while Professor Slughorn is understanding enough, I keep wondering what would have happened if I have a different potions professor instead. My friends are not really fond of him, with his rubbing elbows all that, and Sirius in particular is calling him an opportunist—the nicest of the nicknames he has for Professor Slughorn. Oh, well, it's not like my friends don't do that to the other professors they don't like. Sometimes, I don't know whether to blame myself for not grounding them down. I always feel like I'll betray them if I scold them for their undesirable manners, since, to me, they're the best friends I could only dream to have before. I'm not a sociable person, and I wasn't expecting to make friends when I entered Hogwarts. But by some miracle, I got to know James, Sirius, and Peter, and they're the best. Lily Evans, a fellow prefect, became my friend as well. She's such a sweet girl that sometimes I wonder if she has this hidden personality reserve for James alone. Though James isn't exactly helping his case in wooing her either, if it can be called that. But what do I know? I'm hardly an expert in that subject. Out of the four of us, I'm the least popular with the females. Even Peter beats me at that department. Did you know that the Smith twins have taken a particular liking to him? Apparently, they find Peter's chubby face and flabby body—their words, not mine—cute, and that he has these love handles, whatever those are… Oh my, they're not offensive words, are they? Or, I don't know, other terms for body parts— _Merlin,_ don't tell me a love handle means a peni—"

Merlin burst out laughing the same time his counterpart at the memory did. It stopped Lupin from babbling, making him flush darkly in embarrassment.

"I think we can safely say that the potion works," Arthur Collins said with mirth. "I didn't know you can speak that long with barely a pause," he added teasingly.

Lupin went much redder, burying his face on his palms and refusing to speak. Merlin was sure his face would explode at how ruddy he was. Arthur Collins found this funny as well, chuckling behind his fist.

"Alright, you can stop laughing now," Lupin said with a defeated tone. He peered at Arthur hesitantly. "Not that I'm saying you have a terrible laugh. In fact, you look younger when you do. Your cheekbones lift when you smile, and you get this healthy color on your skin. It's a breath of fresh air from your usual distant looks and the way you regard everything like a wise old man. Smiling or laughing freely suits you better than that thing you do out of politeness to anybody else. Oddly enough, I catch myself staring at you often times, and I hope I don't sound creepy, but I just really, really like looking at your face, and I think—"

"Remus!" a new voice called, entering the potion classroom with a loud thud of the door against the wall.

Merlin didn't get the chance to register what Lupin said. He blinked at the three newcomers and concluded that these were Lupin's best friends. The smallest, with a round figure, must be the Peter Lupin mentioned. Looking at Peter's left, Merlin's breath was caught in his throat when he found two recognizable people—one resembled Harry Potter greatly, if not for the eyes— _of course, James… James Potter_ , and the person beside Harry's father stood with an air of insolence that was very prominent on his handsome features—something that was hugely overshadowed in the present time with all his years in Azkaban.

It was Sirius Black.

Merlin was immediately assaulted with an overwhelming thought that he was viewing a valuable memory; for him, anyway, with how befuddled he was with Sirius Black's identity and how Harry Potter fit in the connection. Merlin's mind reeled in at the pieces of information dropped at his lap in one go. He had long acknowledged that Loki was better at him in this aspect, and the trickster was the person to always think complicatedly between the two of them.

Merlin returned to the memory and was met with a subtle glare from Sirius Black directed to Arthur Morgan.

"'Sup, Collins," James said to Arthur with familiarity. And really, his resemblance with Harry stopped at their physical attributes, with the way he talked to Merlin's other self like they were close friends. "Can we borrow Remus now? Marauders meeting can't start with an absent member."

 _Right. Marauders… The troublemakers._ What an apt name, Merlin thought amusedly.

Arthur, who appeared to be oblivious of the sudden hostility (Merlin wondered where it came from), grinned knowingly at Lupin, whispering, "Seems like your friends are here to fetch you."

Lupin was prompted to arrange his things back to his bag once Arthur began clearing the equipment from the table. Before leaving, Arthur handed him the sample of the potion Lupin made, reminding him to drop it at Professor Slughorn's office.

"The babbling beverage will wear off after an hour," Arthur told Lupin. "But before then, I suggest you be careful of speaking." Lupin went scarlet once again at Arthur's conspiratorial wink he sent his way.

Arthur was left behind the potions classroom, watching with a lopsided grin as the Marauders leave with Lupin being bombarded by James and Peter with series of questions they knew Lupin would babble to them the answers of.

The funny thing was, only Merlin noticed the way Sirius Black immediately pulled Lupin to his side and didn't let go, hooking Lupin's arm to his elbow without Lupin knowing he did so.

For added measure, Sirius Black didn't forget to send Arthur Collins one last glower before he turned his back.

* * *

Loki collected every tome he could find in regards to the _Ǫnd_ and _Hugr_ , the two related subjects he deemed connected to what the Midgardians perceived as the human soul. _Ǫnd_ was the breath, vital force, and spirit all at the same time. In Asgardian belief, the mind and will were at least associated with breath as well, with words holding power and representing a person, and with breath playing a role in magic. _Hugr_ was the soul piece that was continuous with the body—not entirely unlike the idea of an aura that was a generally invisible part of a person and was attached to the body but could extend past it. It was associated with the thoughts, will, desires, and feelings of a person.

The trickster was delving into the part on how the splitting of one's soul was done when Thor unceremoniously barged in his room.

When he spared his brother a glance, Loki found Jörmungandr (in a normal snake size) wounded around Thor's neck.

Loki snapped the book shut. "What is Jörmungandr doing here?"

"His name is Jörmungandr?" Thor actually looked disappointed that Loki got to name him first. "Sif and The Warriors Three thought he was a huge monster residing on our favorite spot in the forest. Is he a friend of yours?" Thor asked, nudging fondly the snake. If he and Loki have something in common, it was their love for snakes.

"I brought him with me from Midgard." Loki beckoned Thor closer, extending a hand to Jörmungandr, in which the snake latched into without further ado.

"A fascinating creature. I saw him in his true form, and when he sensed us he reverted to this size." Thor's eyes never left the Jörmungandr. "I didn't know Midgard have basilisks."

Loki wisely kept to himself the remark that Thor actually knew what a basilisk was. "If I'm not mistaken, he's one of a kind." Loki brushed the shiny scales. "He's not exactly treated well there, starved and was used a weapon."

Jörmungandr has visibly improved in the few months he was living in Asgard's soil. The forest where Loki set him was rich in game and with a not too distant body of water. Loki taught him a few tricks as well, including the shifting from his originally large form to an average size (to help him mingle with the common adders), and vice versa.

"You've been gone for a while," Thor observed, pertaining to Loki's stay at Midgard. His older brother didn't have to know that he was teaching sorcery to Midgardian children. "I used to ask Heimdall what you were up to, and he would only tell me that you were being productive with your time."

That was one way to put it, Loki thought idly. "I was, and I might be back there soon."

"Anything interesting I should know?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Truly?" Thor asked, unconvinced. "I don't doubt what Heimdall said, but I was curious as to what you were doing. Still am."

It was their first time talking about it since Loki's return, and the trickster hardly expected to be confronted on his business. Usually, Thor didn't pay much attention to Loki's personal matters, as it should be.

" _He is nosy,"_ Jörmungandr said once Loki absently connected his mind to him.

" _My brother is known for that. He's an oaf."_

" _But you are fond of him."_

" _I am. Unfortunately."_

" _Why do you not wish to tell him the truth?"_

" _Because he'll consider getting rid of Voldemort as a grand mission. He won't even mind the casualty he can possibly cause."_

" _Then you two are very different."_

" _Obviously."_

"I was visiting a friend," Loki told Thor, in hopes that it would suffice.

"I didn't know you have a friend," Thor remarked, callous at the implication of his improper choice of words.

Loki snorted. Typical. "I do. He's a sorcerer as well."

Thor's eyebrows rose. "Earth has wizards now?"

 _Almost half of their population are practicing magic,_ Loki wanted to say. "They do."

"Do they still worship us as gods?"

 _I never bothered to find out._ "Some, perhaps."

Thor grinned proudly. "Then you'll have to bring me there with you some time, brother." He clapped Loki's back before turning to leave.

Loki was left with an impending headache from Thor's oversized ego.

The sooner he finished what he was searching for, the sooner he could return to Merlin's company.

* * *

On Halloween morning, Harry had never felt more depressed.

Ron and Hermione were both deeply sorry for him being unable to join them. Harry did his best to act normal; he was happy for them, though he wished he could be there to join his friends. It was even more depressing to think that he was the only third year who would be left at Hogwarts. It wasn't he didn't do all he could; he already appealed to Professor McGonagall, and not only was it proven futile, she also pitied him for having Muggle guardians like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

Harry tried to drone out the chatter of students making plans for their first visit at Hogsmeade. After accompanying Ron and Hermione to the entrance, he briefly saw Filch checking names off the list, peering suspiciously at every faces and keeping a watchful eye for any who might be sneaking out.

Harry returned glumly to the dormitories with nothing to occupy his time. He decided to do a light cleaning of his trunk, removing some trash and old exam papers from first year. Under the fold of two of his shirts, he found the small dagger Professor Loki left him.

He was also left with a leather holster for the blade and was told that it has its own enchantment to prevent the basilisk poison to seep through the leather and the fabric of Harry's clothes; consequently, keeping the poison fresh. When Harry unsheathed the blade, there was a shiver on his spine at holding a weapon that could just as easily kill him at wrong handling. It was a fine parting gift from Professor Loki—parting, because Harry was under the impression that Professor Loki would never return as their DADA professor, if the reputation of that position at being unable to keep a permanent instructor was to go by.

Just when he finally began warming up to him.

Harry remembered the meeting with Dumbledore after the event with the basilisk. As per Professor Loki's request, Harry didn't mention that his professor took home the basilisk. Harry wondered if Dumbledore believed the sword of Gryffindor killed the creature, not that Harry gave any affirmation to it. He merely handed to the Headmaster the diary and explained the encounter with the memory of Voldemort imbued in it.

He returned the blade to its previous place, carefully putting it at the bottom of the trunk. Harry lost the motivation to resume his cleaning after his recollection of the previous year's events. He exited to the common room and was eagerly invited by Colin Creevy to join him and his friends. Harry politely declined the invitation, saying he would have to go to the library to finish his homework.

As luck would have it, he met Filch halfway. Clearly, the caretaker was finally done seeing off the last of Hogsmeade visitors. He eyed Harry suspiciously, with an accusing tone when he asked what Harry was doing wandering the hallway.

Harry was in no mood to fight with Filch at this, truthfully saying that he was up to nothing. There really _wasn't_ at the moment and for the next few hours at that. As expected, Filch didn't believe him.

"Oh, dear, is it the time already, Harry?" came a voice from behind Filch.

It was Professor Emrys, beaming at Filch pleasantly and apologetically smiling at Harry. "I kind of lost the time there. Sorry." He turned to Filch. "Don't worry, Mr. Filch. He's with me. I asked him to wait for me around this place since I came from the library."

Filch harrumphed, glaring at Harry until he and Professor Emrys were out of sight.

Harry turned to the history professor confusedly. "What was that, professor?"

Professor Emrys smiled kindly. "Sorry about that. I can't stand it when he's snapping at students, especially to those who are already gloomy." He looked at Harry knowingly.

There was no use to keep up a mask of casualty at his situation when he was around Professor Emrys. To Harry's relief, Professor Emrys didn't make a huge deal out of Ron and Hermione's absence. Instead, he asked Harry to come with him, saying he knew a place to pass the time. Harry, seeing as he has nothing to do for the meantime, followed without a word.

Professor Emrys knocked on the door of what previously was Professor Loki's office.

"Professor Emrys… and Harry," Professor Lupin said, smiling upon noticing the addition. "Why don't you two come in? I'm about to make tea."

Harry stood awkwardly before Professor Emrys nudged him gently in. He hesitated, feeling that he was intruding until Professor Emrys told him he would be needed later on.

"I only have tea bags, I'm afraid. Coffee for you, Emrys?"

"Sure. Harry?"

"I'm fine with tea," Harry murmured.

For a few minutes, there were only silence between the three of them until the kettle whistled. Harry was handed a chipped orange mug of tea, while Professor Emrys got a green one filled with steaming brown coffee. They quietly drank their beverages.

Harry's mind drifted back to the events before arriving at Hogwarts, of him accidentally performing magic at Aunt Marge, of him riding the Knight Bus, and knowing about the escaped prisoner, Sirius Black. A wild thought made itself known: telling his professors about the dog he saw at Magnolia Crescent. He decided not to, not wanting to appear like a coward; to Professor Lupin especially, after he refused let Harry face the Boggart.

"Anything worrying you, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry answered without thinking. Oh, well, too late to back down. "That first day you introduced us to a Boggart," he paused. "Why didn't you let me fight it?"

Professor Emrys respectfully didn't stare, looking far away at the window of the office.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," Professor Lupin said, surprised himself.

Harry was taken aback when the DADA professor explained further. Professor Lupin thought that the Boggart would take Voldemort's shape, and that it would have caused panic if he materialized at the staff room. Harry almost missed the offhanded way Professor Lupin mentioned Voldemort's name, but he missed Professor Emrys's quirk of the lips behind his mug. When Harry finally admitted that his fear would have likely take the shape of a Dementor, Professor Lupin thought him wise that Harry's fear was fear itself.

Professor Emrys's knowing smile made itself known, and suddenly, Harry's mood lifted, being left out for Hogsmeade momentarily forgotten.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" Professor Lupin asked lightly.

"Well… yeah," Harry mumbled, embarrassed. "Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

At Professor Lupin's _come in_ , Snape bounded inside, carrying a goblet with its content mildly smoking. His dark eyes narrowed at the sight of Harry and Professor Emrys, making the latter smile pleasantly at Snape in greeting.

"I was showing them my Grindylow," Professor Lupin said as Snape's gaze wandered back and forth between the three of them.

Harry had no idea there was a Grindylow in a tank of water in a corner. Snape didn't look at it, reminding Professor Lupin to drink his concoction and that he made a cauldronful should Professor Lupin need more.

Snape left unsmiling after Professor Lupin thanked him.

Harry's eyes landed curiously at the goblet and wondered with worry as to what its contents might be knowing Snape was into the Dark Arts. It was no secret how badly he wanted the DADA position. Professor Lupin sensed Harry's unease but was rather lax when he managed to coax Harry's concerns out of him. Harry even wanted to knock the goblet away from Professor Lupin when the latter drank it all in huge gulps, pulling a mildly disgusted face at the taste.

Professor Emrys, who has been fairly quiet since entering the office, clapped his hand together cheerfully. He placed a thin box on the coffee table and removed its contents—a board, two dices, a bunch of cards, and bronze pieces where the three looked like a thimble, a ship, and a top hat, while there were thirty-two that seemed like little houses and twelve buildings.

The box was labeled _Monopoly_ , causing Professor Lupin to perk up in interest, leaning closer to the table.

"Are you familiar with this, Harry?" Professor Emrys asked. Harry shook his head. It wasn't like he was acquainted with games after growing up to the Dursleys. "This is a Muggle board game, Monopoly," the history professor told him pleasantly. "Professor Lupin told me he has been meaning to play this. You see, this is a real-estate board game for two to eight players, in which the player's goal is to remain financially solvent while forcing opponents into bankruptcy by buying and developing pieces of property. It's like being a business man, and you have to think strategically to avoid getting bankrupt yourself. You'll like this."

"I'm not… I don't really know the rules that much, sir," Harry said honestly. Besides, he has a feeling that he would look like an utter idiot playing against two professors of his.

"It's alright, Harry, even I don't know it much as well," Professor Lupin said gently. "Though I think Professor Emrys here will be fair enough to us while guiding us through the gameplay. Think of it as a challenge, Harry."

Harry couldn't say no to Professor Emrys's expectant look, therefore nodding in agreement. He was handed the bronze thimble, a token that would serve as his avatar, he was told. As the person with the least knowledge of the game's inner working, he was given the chance to roll the dice first.

As the game progressed, Harry found himself getting the hang of it, and it wasn't long until he was too immersed at the game to pay attention to the time. It helped that his two opponents didn't go easy on him, making his strategy to push Professor Emrys first to bankruptcy more satisfying. Unfortunately, Professor Emrys recovered easily, landing Harry to jail on his next move. Occasionally, it was down to Professor Emrys and Professor Lupin until Harry could pay his bail.

Harry had fun, which was far from what he expected to have when he had seen his friends off to Hogsmeade.

When they finally decided to call it a day, after checking the time and finding there was only an hour left before the Halloween Feast, Harry was grinning and mind running when he returned to the common room and found Hermione and Ron already back. They recounted their visits much jovially after seeing Harry in good mood, and in return Harry told them of the Monopoly game he had with his two professors.

They went to the feast together, where on their way, Harry remembered Snape bringing a potion to Professor Lupin. Even his friends have terrible suspicions as to what it might be. It made Harry watch Snape surreptitiously during the feast, and he noted dimly how Snape seemed to be glancing at Professor Lupin too often. Professor Lupin, meanwhile, was looking as healthy as Harry had last seen him an hour ago, talking animatedly to Professor Emrys who was sitting beside him.

The feast finished with an entertainment by the Hogwarts ghosts, with Nearly Headless Nick doing a funny reenacting of his own failed beheading, rendering it not scary at all.

Harry felt like nothing could spoil his good evening after the sumptuous feast, even if he did receive a few insults from the Slytherin table, calling him out on his fainting at the Hogwarts Express. Really, it was getting old.

They were on their way to the Gryffindor Tower, following the rest of the Gryffindors, when they stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady jammed with students.

Percy came through the crowd until he reached the portrait. Harry tried to peer over the heads but was unable to make out what the fuss was about. It wasn't until silence spread from the front of the crowd and a chill fell over them when Harry suddenly felt dread on his stomach.

A student quickly went to Dumbledore after Percy's sharp order. Next moment, the Headmaster was there, sweeping towards the portrait as the crowd made room for him. The trio used it to squeeze through the throng to see for themselves what the matter was.

Hermione gasped, grabbing Harry's arm as they saw the shredded canvas of the Fat Lady. It was torn viciously, with the strips littering the floor while some were pulled off completely. The Fat Lady was nowhere to be found.

Professors McGonagall, Lupin, Emrys, and Snape arrived soon. Dumbledore tasked the Deputy Headmistress to find the caretaker, Filch, to search for the Fat Lady among the castle's paintings.

As if on cue, Peeves cackling voice came, in delight at the sight of wreckage of the Fat Lady's portrait. Though his grin faltered when he was directly, and calmly, addressed by Dumbledore as to the whereabouts of the Fat Lady. Peeves told of the Fat Lady's flight, in an unconvincingly sympathetic tone of his, to the fourth floor landscapes.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves said, deliberately not going straight to the answer. "You see, he was very angry when she wouldn't let him in." He leaned to the Headmaster, mock-whispering, "That Sirius Black got a nasty temper, doesn't he?"

* * *

Lupin felt an abrupt change in Emrys.

It wasn't what he would consider threatening, but the unwarranted change in the younger professor's demeanor around him left Lupin perplexed. He did give Emrys the benefit of the doubt and concluded that he was just another young adult who wanted to earn the approval of those older than him.

And yet when Lupin looked closely, it was far from that. In fact, he treated Lupin with the generosity of that of an old friend. Lupin knew Emrys has no idea of his condition, and that it wasn't pity or anything resembling that. And Lupin, with his years spent secluded from socializing and forming relationships, craved the friendship Emrys was extending to him. So Lupin let him in, and at the same time putting a cautious distance. He knew too well that should Emrys caught wind of his lycanthropy, the young professor would bolt out of his association with him without hesitation. While the faculty was kind to him in general, only a handful would hazard a close friendship with him.

They began a weekly ritual of having tea by the end of the week, discussing mostly about the students. Emrys often mentioned those who were bullied in his class and never failed to voice his dislike for bullying. This inadvertently brought Lupin back to his own Hogwarts days and had him wondering that if he had been better at grounding his friends back then, or at least asked them to lay off from Snape, perhaps he and Snape would be in a more decent standing rather than the Potions Master merely tolerating him for the sake of Dumbledore. Lupin wasn't under the illusion either that Snape wouldn't underhandedly try to sabotage Lupin's post.

Lupin admired Emrys's blatant disregard of Snape's undesirable personality. While Lupin could explain how he could act civil against Snape's sneers and contempt for him, he didn't understand Emrys's reasoning behind his behavior. Initially, Lupin thought Emrys was making fun of Snape, until Emrys proved that he was serious in _introducing a bit of sunshine to Professor Snape_ (Emrys's own words). Lupin was both thoroughly amused and fascinated at the boldness of that statement.

Emrys was a brilliant young man. Lupin would always enjoy the company of an intellectual, and, amazingly, it was as if he was the one learning in every discussion he has with him; without a doubt, Emrys was a good professor. Though what Lupin admired in this young man the most was his wisdom. For his age, Emrys was wise and firm on his beliefs and principles—it was difficult to find those qualities in people nowadays. Emrys was open-minded to different perspectives and was always willing to listen to others' point of view.

Lupin tested him once, on a whim, on how he viewed the Ministry's approach on werewolves. Personally, Lupin had felt silly to do so, though he wouldn't deny how he felt touch at Emrys's disapproval on how the rules were applied to those who were deemed different, saying that dark creatures or not, they were still people just like any ordinary wizards and Muggles were. Lupin remembered basking on that acceptance, a tad superficial of him it might be, before convincing himself that Emrys was still a young man, and like everybody else like him he retained that naiveté from easy childhood.

When the week before his first full moon upon returning to Hogwarts came, Lupin declined Emrys's company in fear that the wolf would react badly at Emrys, remembering clearly how the wolf had growled as if it was about to take over on his first encounter with Emrys. Granted, the wolf lingered close to the surface a day after the full moon, but Lupin had also suspected it has something to do with Emrys's presence as well. The wolf was the one who could sense a great deal on harmful intents, which had Lupin reflect for days whether it was saying something on Emrys's intention in acquainting with him.

His transformation was less painful than the previous, with minimal bites and scratches due to being under the Wolfsbane potion. Though his human mind was aware while he was a werewolf, he would forget what may have happened while he was in that form. When Lupin found himself cocooned with a red and gold quilt enchanted to keep him warm, he racked his brain for what might have occurred the night of the full moon. He got none, except the lingering smell of another person at his office where he spent the full moon sleeping as a werewolf.

Lupin paled because while he became familiar with that scent not long ago, he was also aware that he never invited the person to his office for a week now.

When Madame Pomfrey was finished checking him post-transformation, it dawned to Lupin that he had seen the last thread of his friendship with that wonderful young man. Lupin was getting tired of making connections and witnessing them end the same way.

But Lupin had to know—he had to know at least what prompted Emrys to come see him at the office. He realized that he knew nothing of Emrys at all, and he might have not known whether Emrys took pleasure in watching a dark creature in pain. There was an ugly twist in his stomach, and Lupin felt more terrible than during the full moon.

He confronted Emrys once he was well-rested to take him on. And Lupin… he remembered too well how Emrys beamed in relief at the sight of him.

Lupin's resolve crumbled on the spot, getting more conflicted each passing second at not being shunned or feared.

"Why?" he managed to croak pitifully.

Emrys seemed to know what he meant. "I think the clues were there, but I wasn't sure," he confessed.

Although Lupin was glad he was given honesty, he was furious. "Did you know how dangerous that was? What if wasn't under the potion? I could have torn you to shreds!"

There. He had said it. It was never about his identity being risked to more people and instead about another life in danger at his presence.

"Sit down, will you? This will be a long story," Emrys said gently, but in a firm tone that left no room for argument. Lupin had never heard him use it before, and Lupin was certain Emrys didn't use it often.

Emrys prepared him a chamomile tea and told him a story of a friend. Lupin quietly listened with no strength to pick apart Emrys's words, even if it was obvious there was more to the tale he was sharing. Emrys mentioned having a friend, once, with the same condition as Lupin's. He didn't mention lycanthropy specifically, only that it was far worse (Lupin couldn't imagine what could be worse than being a werewolf). Emrys had seen his late friend in him, he said, and reminded Lupin that, no, he wasn't a pity project that he was into just to absolve him of guilt at being unable to save his friend.

"I may not know it firsthand how you feel, but I want to understand and be there because it's the least I can do."

Lupin knew he was defeated when he buried his face on his palms with nothing to say at that sincere declaration. More than anything, he was surprised and elated; surprised at how easily the argument died in him, while elated at the semblance of a relationship he used to have with the Marauders who stood with him though the worst of the full moons. Lupin was no longer a child and so he let go of the childish hope that everything would be back at how it used to be before the first war, when he and his friends were happily secured at Hogwarts and when the most of their worry was escaping from Filch.

He set his focus on the present, where there was one person selflessly asking him to cling on unconditionally.

The least Lupin could do was to hold on tight and be optimistic.

"Remus," Emrys's called softly, his voice shaking Lupin back to the present.

Lupin smiled tiredly, slumping to the wall outside the Great Hall where all the students were camping. "Emrys."

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," was Lupin's clipped reply. There were still some things that he was having difficulty to share to Emrys. "Did they find him?"

Emrys shook his head. "I don't think the Headmaster expected Sirius Black to linger within the castle grounds."

True. Sirius was too smart for that. "Well, who knows?"

"There was a suspicion of an insider help," Emrys said quietly, his back falling against the wall beside Lupin.

Lupin wouldn't put it past Snape. "It is a possibility." He peered at Emrys. "Do you believe that?"

"No, I don't think he went in with an aid from an insider."

Lupin smiled ruefully at the surety of the reply. "There are the Dementors if you're insinuating he put on a disguise."

"You know it doesn't necessarily mean a disguise," Emrys said pointedly but not accusing. "As the Muggles saying goes— _if there's a will, there's a way._ "

Nothing could have been more proper to describe Sirius's attitude to challenges. Lupin sighed, catching himself reminiscing again.

"We'll be up for more hours. Coffee?" Emrys offered, kindly setting aside the topic of Sirius Black.

Lupin was grateful, in more ways than one. "Lead the way."

* * *

"How is he?" Merlin asked the Mediwitch, glancing at an unconscious Remus.

The transformation wasn't particularly difficult with the help of Wolfsbane, but the wolf has been uneasy since Sirius Black's visit.

"He'll be alright with plenty of rest," Madame Pomfrey assured him. "And you will make sure that he doesn't push himself too much once he wakes up. I'm sure you know how hardworking Remus can be."

"You forgot stubborn," Merlin suggested.

Madame Pomfrey hummed in agreement. "Yes. Yes, he is," she murmured. "Since he was a kid. You couldn't even take this man away from his prefect duties." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"How was his transformations when he was a student?" Merlin asked, knowing full well that Wolfsbane wasn't easily acquired back then.

"Sometimes when he was unable to come down here with his injuries, I go to the shack myself," she recalled. "Eventually, he got past that phase when got best friends of his own. They might be troublemakers, a bit noisy too during visitation hours, but they were loyal to Remus so often times I don't kick them out."

Merlin didn't doubt that after seeing those people himself from the pensieve.

Madame Pomfrey finished a moment later, leaving with a final reminder to Merlin and saying she would be back in a bit, expecting Remus to be still asleep.

Amused, Merlin turned to Remus. "She's gone now, you know."

"I feel betrayed," Remus said wearily under closed eyelids.

"Nah, she's looking out for you."

"You seem to get on her good graces. Only a few can manage that."

"She knows how valuable I am in ensuring you get enough rest," Merlin replied sagely. "Chocolate?"

"Yes, please."

"Hmm. Madame Pomfrey will be after my arse for this." Merlin broke a slab and shared the half to Remus. "Look at me, getting you sugar-high."

"She will be after the _both_ of us," Remus corrected before proceeding to munch on the chocolate.

"Something tells me that is your goal."

"You got me."

…

Merlin and Remus's light banter resulted to Madame Pomfrey scolding Merlin for disturbing Remus's sleep, which in turn caused her to ask, in that reprimanding mother tone of hers, what in the world was Remus doing awake and eating chocolates.

As Madame Pomfrey ushered Merlin out after deeming him unhelpful, a pair of gray eyes watching by the window of the hospital wing went unnoticed.

* * *

When Remus told Merlin of Harry asking for lessons on how to defend oneself from Dementors, Merlin couldn't help but feel he was being studied by Remus. What he was hoping to catch on Merlin, Merlin has no idea. Though he has an inkling that it has something to do with his encounter with a Dementor at the Hogwarts Express.

Had Remus actually saw him obliterating one?

If Merlin was indeed seen, Remus made no mention of it. Perhaps hoping to hear it from Merlin himself. How could Merlin possibly explain himself though? No ordinary wizard nor known spell could destroy a Dementor in a single strike. He didn't wish to have Remus be suspicious of him because of the secrets Merlin kept, but it wasn't like he could tell him he was _the_ Merlin either.

One of the boundaries of their friendship was not prying on each other's pasts. Merlin never asked Remus about the Marauders, and Remus respectfully didn't ask of Arthur Collins again. They would rather think that they prefer to live in the present.

Remus would be teaching Harry on making a Patronus right after the Christmas break, due to the full moon during the break. Merlin was invited to come along, with Remus staring at him knowingly when he suggested to be there since Merlin might also know a thing or two about banishing Dementors. Merlin declined, using the excuse that Harry might not feel comfortable with another professor present and witnessing his fears.

Merlin's mind was abruptly occupied with the boy. Harry shouldn't be worrying on matters such as this. He should be out here with his friends, enjoying Hogsmeade visits and not stressing over Dementors and Sirius Black coming after him.

Knowing Harry was again wandering alone in Hogwarts, Merlin decided to quickly finish his Christmas shopping so he could have the time to invite Harry with a game of _Battleship_ to pass the time; Remus too if he was up for it.

Merlin was passing by the Shrieking Shack when he could make out four people not far from the shack. He squinted his eyes and saw Crabbe, Goyle, with Nott—if Merlin wasn't mistaken—and Draco.

A very furious Draco running the other three off.

Crabbe and Goyle went past Merlin without stopping, followed by Nott who was cackling when the stone Draco threw at him missed.

Draco grabbed a larger stone lying around to try again but stopped upon seeing Merlin. He looked away, stricken, without acknowledging Merlin's presence. He threw the rock on his hand angrily at another direction.

"Draco?" Merlin approached tentatively.

"Sir," Draco grounded out, his voice low.

"What happened?"

Weakly, he gestured at the Shrieking Shack, and at first Merlin thought Draco was asking to go in. Though upon coming closer, he realized it wasn't the case after he saw what Draco was pertaining to.

It was a dog, large and black and was looking weak. There was a long gash from its forehead to the back of its ear.

"Oh, dear." Merlin stooped low at the canine, and was met, albeit with wobbly legs, a warning growl from the dog. "It's alright. I won't hurt you," he said to it. Dogs were intelligent animals, and he knew he was understood by some degree when Merlin opened his palms in surrender, placating the dog.

"I didn't know where Crabbe and Goyle went when they separated from me to come with Nott," Draco began. "But I managed to follow them shortly and saw them kicking and throwing rocks at Snuffles."

"Snuffles?"

Draco's pale cheeks darkened briefly. "Him. The Hogsmeade dog."

"Oh. Does his wound come from them?"

"I think so. Snuffles was too weak to move from the spot. It's the cold, probably. When I arrived, Nott was trying to set alight a firecracker. That sick bastard," Draco muttered angrily.

"We'll let Hagrid deal with them, alright?" Merlin assured Draco, patting him on his back. "And Snuffles here is fortunate that you came just in time."

Snuffles weakly approached Draco, muzzling his leg affectionately, which Merlin took as the dog's way of saying thanks.

"Well, we can't leave him here, can we? He doesn't have a house to shield him from the weather and his injuries have to be treated." Merlin hummed. "I know a place."

"Where?"

"Hagrid's," Merlin said after telling Snuffles that he would be placing a warming charm on his fur and that he would have to walk with them to Hogwarts. "He'll know what to do."

Snuffles walked more closely beside Draco. Merlin noted with amazement how intelligent the dog was, far beyond the usual brilliance of an average canine since Snuffles could understand human language easily.

He faintly wondered what Loki would have found if he connected his mind with Snuffles.

As expected, Hagrid fussed over Snuffles. He used one of the present Merlin had given him at the start of the term, and within minutes Snuffles's scratches and wounds were healed.

Draco stayed at the whole duration of it, making Merlin secretly smile at how fast the boy became attached with the dog.

"Do you have a pet, Draco?" Merlin asked conversationally.

"No. I'm not allowed to have one," Draco said, eyes not leaving Snuffles wolfing down the food served to him and Fang.

Merlin noted how friendly Fang was to a stranger of his kind. Hagrid must have trained him well. "I see."

It would explain Draco's attitude towards Snuffles.

Once Hagrid settled down his armchair, it was only then that he noticed who came with Merlin.

"Malfoy?" Hagrid asked before he could stop himself. "Er, I mean, hello ter yeh, Mister Malfoy. Tea?"

Draco nodded weakly at the offer even if he looked like he was ready to bolt out any second.

"Draco here defended Snuffles from Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott," Merlin told Hagrid proudly.

Hagrid's expression promised a deduction for harming an innocent dog.

"And I think Draco would also like to ask whether he can visit Snuffles if he can."

"I do?"

"He does?" Hagrid asked, surprised when he regarded Draco. His gaze softened, as if he was seeing the boy in a new light. "Of cours' yeh can. Anytime. I nev'r had another student ter visit me 'sides Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Yeh can come 'long, Mister Malfoy."

Draco looked hesitant before nodding. "It's Draco… sir."

"None of tha' now. It's Hagrid."

Snuffles barked approvingly from his food, as if he completely understood the conversation, making the three of them laugh.

* * *

"Do you know him, sir? Do you know Sirius Black?"

Lupin should have expected the question after opening his mouth and telling Harry that he knew James and was friends with him. He couldn't help it, he supposed—he couldn't help asking if Harry indeed heard James in his Dementor-induced unconsciousness. Merlin help Harry, he heard even Lily too. Lupin could only imagine how Harry must have felt hearing his dead parents and their confrontation with Voldemort.

"What gives you that idea?" Lupin asked, purposely taking his time to close the packing case. He was grateful for the dim lighting of the History of Magic classroom Emrys had generously lend them. The room was large, and the only light they have wasn't enough to reach Lupin's face clearly.

"You mentioned that you knew my father, so I thought…"

Lupin's elation at Harry's successful attempt at making a wisp of a non-corporeal Patronus was immediately swallowed by bitterness. "I do know him... At least, I thought I did."

He sent Harry off as it was getting late. He realized sadly that his last meeting before the holidays with Harry ended in a not so pleasant conversation regarding Sirius. He figured that Harry had already found out about Sirius's lesser known crime—betraying the Potters to Voldemort. And Harry… Harry thought Sirius deserved the Dementor's kiss. He wished it to be done to _his_ godfather, the person he used to gurgle happily at when he was lifted high in the air when he was an infant.

There has always been a part of him that keep refusing to acknowledge that Sirius did just that, and that part of him wouldn't be acknowledging it anytime soon unless he heard it from Sirius himself. But who was he kidding? He never made the effort to see Sirius in the first place since he was taken away by the Aurors. Dumbledore made no advice of it to him, therefore Lupin took it upon himself to be left wallowing in his own regrets and loneliness in the past twelve years. He knew it wasn't healthy to not have the closure, but what else would die within him? More than half of him was long gone with James, Lily, and Peter. Should he risk what remained to be only laughed at by Sirius?

 _Black,_ Lupin corrected himself, because Sirius already died with his other friends.

* * *

Then night Sirius Black was reported to be sighted _inside_ the Gryffindor Tower, Merlin was rudely awakened by insistent knocks on his door.

It was Professor Flitwick who came to fetch him. Upon reaching Dumbledore, they were both ordered to search the castle once again. But Merlin knew, not for the lack of trying, that the search would be fruitless, just like it was on Sirius Black's previous sighting at Hogwarts.

Instead, Merlin looked for Remus who looked a little worse for wear. Of course, Remus was affected too, more than anybody else, because he was concerned for both Harry and Sirius. Merlin knew Remus wasn't letting go of the notion that his best friend was still there, as hard as he tried to treat Sirius Black with indifference. But Merlin was there to see Remus's reaction upon the news of Ministry giving permission to perform the Dementor's Kiss on Sirius Black if found. While Remus was good at hiding his real feelings, Merlin didn't have to imagine the torrent of emotions behind his careful expression.

"Remus."

"Emrys." The DADA professor looked at Merlin distractedly. "Did they find him?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. They won't find him. Not in Hogwarts, at least."

"What makes you so sure?" Remus said shortly.

"Because we both know he's not that stupid."

Merlin watched as his words sank in. Remus's face was carefully blank when he said, "You suspect me."

Merlin shook his head defiantly. "No, I don't," he said, much softer. "I trust you, Remus."

"You don't know me for too long. Just because you know what I become once in a month—"

"You're a dark creature so I'm supposed to think the worst if you? I may not know for myself how you feel, but I can see how it affects you. All of this thing about Sirius Black." Merlin gestured wildly around him.

Remus hung his head low, defeated.

"And I don't blame you if you feel conflicted," Merlin continued gently. "I'm not so good at handling betrayal by a friend either."

"And I should be, because I had twelve years to think it through and accept it," Remus whispered. "And there's also Harry's life on the line. Why should there be a doubt in me when Sirius's actions make it clear that he's after Harry? I don't want to be weak when I finally see him. I don't want to be weak because I might not be able to stop him from finishing Harry."

Merlin's mind flashed the memory he had seen and remembered the glower Arthur Collins received by that fiery boy who never let Remus leave his side, how Sirius Black's arm had curled possessively before leaving.

And— _oh, oh, it all makes sense now._

"Do you believe that? Do you believe that escaped Azkaban just to kill Harry?"

"No," Remus said, as if his decisiveness was making him want to sob. "No, I don't."

It was enough for Merlin.

* * *

The examination week began with Harry feeling positive after moving from an impasse on his anti-Dementor lessons with Professor Lupin.

He had successfully made a Patronus mid-Quidditch match. Although there was no real Dementors then and only a bunch of stupid Slytherins hoping to sabotage his game—which Harry realized how oddly Malfoy wasn't a part of it—Harry felt proud of himself nonetheless. Professor Lupin too, knowing a Patronus wasn't a thirteen-year-old wizard standard magic, and Harry felt even more satisfied at his professor's approval.

Harry made sure to do his best at Defense Against the Dark Arts. And while Professor Lupin's exam was certainly unusual, making it seemed like an obstacle challenge of sorts, Harry enjoyed the challenge and got full marks.

His History of Magic written exam would be quite difficult if he wasn't paying attention in class, or if Binns was still the one teaching it. He and Ron fared well with their marks, and Harry had to give it to Professor Emrys and Hermione's loud reading to them. Defense Against the Dark Arts easily became Harry's favorite subject for the current school year, followed closely by History of Magic.

As long as the professors were like Professor Lupin and Professor Emrys, one could really get into studying.

Care of Magical Creatures wasn't far behind in Harry's ranking. Hagrid knew his stuff and his love for the creatures was infectious, aside, of course, his fondness for those who have a penchant for biting or setting fire on students' hairs. Overall, Hagrid was the best choice to be the instructor of the subject, and Harry was glad to see his friend happy with his teaching.

They were on their way to Hagrid, who had kindly invited them for tea as post-exam celebration of some kind, when Harry remembered his Potions and Divination exams. He was past the notion of expecting Snape to give him acceptable marks, if Harry finding out the thing about his father and Snape on their younger days was to be based on. He didn't know the full story yet, and, truthfully, he didn't really want to know and risk Snape's wrath (though, frankly, he was doing well with that with or without the knowledge). Harry recalled with regret how the Marauder's Map was confiscated, by Professor Lupin, no less, who Harry didn't want to be disappointed at him. His respect for Professor Lupin outweighed the desire to see Snape's reaction once again at the map's brilliant insults intended for Snape alone. Whoever Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were, Harry wanted to personally send his gratitude.

What made Harry unsettled though was Professor Trelawney's… prediction. Harry realized that he hasn't told Ron and Hermione yet how eerie her voice and expression had been then, and because of that Harry knew that what she told him was worlds different from reading from tea leaves and speculate wildly what the odd formations of the dregs could have meant. As much as Harry wanted to treat it as his professor's _impressive_ way of ending the exam, her words kept resounding in his head.

" **Tonight, before midnight… the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master."**

Hermione made a small noise once they could see Hagrid's hut. "Is that Malfoy?"

Harry followed where her finger was pointing at, and, truly, they could see a blond boy leaving Hagrid's home.

"You don't reckon he's getting Hagrid in trouble, do you?" Ron asked worriedly, nudging Harry on his side. "You know how he is, his friends, _and_ his father."

"Where are they though? His friends, I mean."

"He's alone," Hermione confirmed, stopping on her path when Malfoy was a few meters away from them.

Malfoy paused abruptly when he noticed them as well. Instinctively, he pointedly looked away with his chin held high when he passed them by without so much of an insult.

In fact, Malfoy didn't even bother to sneer.

Ron merely shrugged when Harry turned at him, puzzled.

When Hagrid received them, Malfoy was the first thing Harry asked about.

"Draco? Yeh saw 'im then." Surprisingly, Hagrid beamed at this. "He left a treat fer Snuffles. Quite expensive, I think." He gestured at a pack of biscuits at the table.

More questions sprang from what Hagrid said. Since when was Malfoy _Draco_? "What was Malfoy doing here?"

"Oh, er, right. Yeh see, before Christmas, he an' Professor Emrys rescued an injured, big black dog. His name is Snuffles and they brought 'im here. Intelligent, that one."

Big black dog. Huh. Harry was reminded of the Grim that was making its appearance since he left the Dursleys. Could it be the same one?

"You mean it looks like the Grim?" Ron inquired for him.

"Grim? I suppos' yeh're right. He looks like the Grim. But he's not one, I'm sure. Snuffles is mighty brave. Braver than Fang, I reckon. An' he's also sweet that's why Draco is taken at 'im."

Harry wisely kept to himself that there were a lot of things wrong at that.

"Where's Snuffles now?"

"Jus' around the grounds. He likes playing outside at this hour an' usually comes back at ev'ning."

Unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to stay out that long with the curfew in place. Next time, Harry supposed.

Hagrid served them tea, asking about their exams and how they did. He also asked whether his own exam wasn't too difficult. They assured him that it was challenging, but not impossible, so was his classes for the whole school year. Hagrid was grateful for the positive feedback.

Hermione was about to pour some milk on her tea when she let out a shriek upon opening the jug.

"I can't believe it—Ron, it's Scabbers!"

She tipped over the jug where Ron's formerly known dead rat tumbled out, scampering around the table and squeaking to get back as if in hiding from them all.

Ron lifted the rat by the tail as it struggled. Scabbers looked worse than the last time they saw it—he was thinner and sporting bald spots on places. Ron pitied its state and assured it that Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, wasn't around to bother it.

"Been seeing 'im here for a while," Hagrid mused. "Only when Snuffles is out. The little fella must be scared of 'im." And Crookshanks, Harry wanted to add.

The sun has already set by the time Hagrid advised they return to the castle. Hagrid was reluctant to cut their meeting without being able to introduce Snuffles to them, but the need to get them back, especially Harry, was more pressing while Sirius Black remained on the run. The felon has been keeping it quiet for a while, but it wasn't a risk Hagrid was willing to take considering how easily he came in and out of the castle without being caught. Twice.

They sneaked back with the help of the invisibility cloak, walking slowly under the darkened skies.

Ron hissed at Scabbers who was wriggling madly as he forced him back to his pocket. The rat was restless for no apparent reason since leaving Hagrid's hut. Harry suspected it was traumatized still by Crookshanks and was paranoid to get back to the castle.

"Ouch! It bit me!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief.

"Quiet, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "What if somebody hears us?"

Scabbers struggled wildly at Ron's hold. It was terrified, wanting to break free from Ron's hand desperately. And when gold eyes slinked out of the dark, Harry thought he knew why.

Frustrated, Hermione shooed her cat. Harry wasn't sure whether Crookshanks could see them clearly or was merely following the squeaks, but the cat went closer, causing Scabbers to jump from Ron's grip with determination that wasn't common to rats.

Pulling the cloak from himself, Ron ran after the direction Scabbers scurried to, wading through the dark. Harry and Hermione were left with no choice but to follow Ron in a sprint as he went after his rat, wanting to beat Crookshanks into it.

Ron managed to get into Scabbers first, shooing the cat with a dirty look. The rat was a wriggling lump on his pocket. Panting, Hermione urged that they return under the cloak fast. Harry wasn't also liking the silence of the surroundings.

It was when the quiet sounds of heavy footfalls came, bounding towards their position before they could return under the cloak. It was an enormous jet-black dog moving like a shadow.

Before Harry could get his wand, it made a huge leap at him, hitting him square on the chest. At closer view, Harry could see its rows of white teeth, its breath hot on Harry's face. Indeed, it looked like the Grim from Harry's angle.

To his surprise, the Grim didn't stop to attack him but lunged to where Ron was. To their horror, the Grim snatched Ron by his extended arm, dragging him away like a ragdoll. Harry snatched a handful of its fur, and the Grim, with its large built, easily carried Harry as well, sending him skidding after them.

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry across his face, the lash forcing him to let go. Wincing at the impact, Harry could hear Hermione shrieking in pain.

Harry scrambled for his wand, lighting the area with a _Lumos_. He could make out thick long branches swinging like whips as if in high wind.

They had chased Scabbers by the shadows of the Whomping Willow.

And there by gap between its roots was the Grim pulling Ron further underground. Ron made a vicious struggle, hooking his foot on a protruding root until there was a sickening crack of broken bone.

"Harry, we have to get help for Ron—"

"We don't have time! You see how large that dog is—it will finish Ron within minutes!"

"We can't get in without help!" Hermione insisted frantically.

Harry tried to look for any way they could enter as the whip-like branches cracked near them. If the dog could get in, so could they.

Hermione fidgeted helplessly, whispering for anybody to help them. Harry was doused with the feeling of frustration and helplessness as they stood with the seconds trickling by.

Crookshanks, who was forgotten in the whirl of panic, darted to the base of the Whomping Willow as if it heard Hermione's plea. His paw pressed on a knot on the trunk, causing the branches to stop as if frozen midair.

"Crookshanks? How did—"

"He's friends with that dog," Harry said grimly, remembering he had seen them together once. "Come. Ready your wand."

They followed Crookshanks, entering the earthy slope headfirst. Harry, with Hermione behind him, crawled at the long dark tunnel. If Harry was correct, the tunnel lead somewhere in Hogsmeade. It was included in the Marauder's Map, but Fred and George had admitted to have never ventured this place. Harry had a terrible feeling of déjà vu—entering dark tunnels wasn't known to end well for him, if his second year adventure to the Chamber of Secrets was to go by; if in the previous year, he and Ron have Professor Loki with them, now they didn't have the luxury of being accompanied by a professor.

Harry recalled his promise to Professor Emrys last year on not to confront the unknown without him or Professor Loki or at least any adult. While Professor Emrys might be pertaining to the Chamber of Secrets that time, Harry supposed it extended to him and his friends' penchant for finding trouble during the end of school years. Professor Emrys was sure to be disappointed in him, and maybe Professor Lupin would be too.

That was if they would get out of this alive.

Harry cursed his lack of forethoughtfulness. He should have kept with him at all times the dagger Professor Loki gave him since the threat of Sirius Black came. It would have been handy.

Crookshanks was first to reach the end, and when Harry exited the opening, he couldn't find the cat. He helped Hermione to her feet, and they both raised their wands to illuminate what lay beyond.

It was a shabby room with boarded windows and walls with chipped paint and ripped wallpapers. Every furniture was broken as though somebody smashed each. The room was deserted, and as Harry turned to check on Hermione, she grabbed his arm, whispering that they might be inside the Shrieking Shack. It did look haunted enough to be the famous haunted shack, but surveying the wooden chair near them with large chunks torn off Harry concluded that ghosts couldn't have done that.

The implication that there was a more _solid_ creature lurking in the shack sent shivers down their spines. It was like the Chamber of Secrets all over again.

There was a creaking sound from upstairs, and with a silent agreement with Hermione, they crept up the dusty old wooden staircase. On the dark hallway of the second floor was a clean long swipe indicating that something had been dragged across it. There was only one door open to their right, where a low sound that resembled a moan and a deep, loud purring could be heard.

Sharing one last look with Hermione and wand held tight on his hand, Harry kicked the door wide open.

On a dusty four-poster bed sprawled Crookshanks, purring loudly at the newcomers. On the floor not far beside the bed was Ron who was unharmed aside from his leg stuck out in a weird angle.

Harry and Hermione went to him immediately.

"Ron, are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"It's not a dog," Ron said, pained, through gritted teeth. "Harry, it's a trap."

Color drained from Harry's face. "What?"

"He's the dog—He's an Animagus."

Harry whirled around to where Ron was looking at over Harry's shoulders. The door snapped close and revealed a man hiding behind it. Harry would have thought of it a corpse, if not for the gray eyes that were shining with life and yellow teeth bared in a feral grin.

It was Sirius Black.

…

Merlin knocked on Remus's office door an hour before the full moon.

He didn't expect to be answered, knowing by this time, Remus would be jittery and pacing around his office. To Merlin's surprise though, there was nobody inside when he entered.

Confusion flooded Merlin initially. Remus was always cautious to not leave his room by sundown. Merlin tasked himself to personally bring him dinner, with the meal consisted mostly of red meat per the wolf's craving.

When Merlin spotted the smoking goblet of Wolfsbane remained untouched, his puzzlement became alarm.

Merlin hastily set aside the tray he was carrying and wondered whether Snape was already on the lookout where Remus might be. It was highly likely, given Snape's suspicious nature to Remus. If Snape also stumbled upon Remus's empty office, he was sure to be on high alert. For once, Merlin thought Snape's dislike of Remus served a decent purpose.

Though where could Snape be at the moment? Had he gotten a clue somehow where Remus might be?

Merlin approached the desk where the goblet was perched. Sitting beside it was an open parchment with moving ink dots. Curious, Merlin picked it up for closer inspection.

It was a map—a detailed map of Hogwarts ground displaying the names of everybody in places indicated by dot marks. Fascinated, Merlin's eyes roam at every single hidden passages of the castle. He scanned the map further and found that in his current location, he was labeled _Emrys_ on the map. Emrys, and nothing else, unlike the other names being shown on the parchment. Merlin suspected that the map showed the real names of each person, though he didn't know if it could be fooled with invisibility cloaks or Polyjuice Potions. With an idea in mind, Merlin searched for Remus's name.

Merlin's eyes widened at what he found—Remus was currently in the Shrieking Shack, and the names surrounding his were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, and a Peter Pettigrew.

Merlin stopped. He recognized the last name as one of Remus's best friends in his Hogwarts days, but the name was made popular with news articles related to Sirius Black's crimes. Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead, one of the people murdered at the hands of Sirius Black.

Scenarios formed in Merlin's mind unchecked, adrenaline pumping his veins at the series of theories running wildly in his head. Really, this would have been easier if Loki was here with him.

Merlin folded the parchment and placed it back where he picked it from. His eyes landed on the goblet of Wolfsbane potion. He knew he wouldn't make it in time, with the moon starting to peek from the clouds, but he could still prevent the disaster that was about to happen (if it hasn't yet) with the last three names in included in the fray.

His only hope was that he could reach Harry, Ron, and Hermione and pull them from possible harm's way.

…

When Merlin was halfway to his destination, a cloud shifted in the sky, revealing a bright full moon.

He ran quickly, knowing Remus began transforming without completing his week's intake of Wolfsbane. With the trio in his company, they were in the line of fire, so to say. Merlin knew Remus would never forgive himself if anything happened to them while the wolf was taking over, nor would he take it well if he found out he has blood on his hands.

Merlin arrived to the location of the frozen Whomping Willow, where the map said an entrance to the Shrieking Shack was located, and saw that Remus has already transformed. Snuffles was keeping the werewolf from attacking the children, his bear-like body large enough to be on par with the werewolf. Snape was standing mid-air, unconscious, behind Hermione who was close to Harry's back. Harry's wand was pointed threateningly to a balding round man who knocked Ron out cold with the wand he was holding. Harry yelled an _Expelliarmus_ , rendering the other unarmed. It occurred to Merlin that the man was manacled to Ron.

And right before their eyes, the man turned smaller… and smaller… until there was a squeaking of a rat, scurrying on the grass towards Merlin's direction.

Merlin has no idea what was going on, but he could hazard a guess with what he witnessed. Not letting the rat to go past him, Merlin summoned thin binds from the ground, latching on the tail first before wrapping around the small body of the animal. Merlin's magic balled patches of grass to shape a sphere, enclosing the rat in. Forming a small simple cage on one hand, golden sparks escaped his fingers when he enhanced it with enchantment. He swiftly transferred the rat inside.

The rat squeaked loud, trying to break free of its cage. Possibly, it was also trying to revert back to its human form, only to find Merlin's magic hindering it.

"Of course, you have to be an Animagus," Merlin mused. He wouldn't put it past the clever Marauders. Merlin might be clueless, but there has to be a good reason why a man who was supposed to be dead turned out alive and kicking—attacking a student, no less. "I'll let the others handle you, Mister Pettigrew. Whatever your story might be." Merlin has his full trust on Remus and his decisions.

Merlin returned his attention on the scene. Snuffles has chased the werewolf to the woods for now, with Harry running after them.

"Harry!"

Merlin's voice halted the boy in his steps, also stopping Hermione from bolting after Harry.

"Professor Emrys!" Hermione was the first to run to Merlin. Out of huge relief, Hermione embraced him with her thin arms, sobbing. Merlin let her.

"What happened?" Merlin asked gently, his eyes finding Harry who was worriedly looking out to the path to the woods.

"Sorry, Professor, we don't have time. Sirius defended us from the werewolf, and he's heavily injured. He's already weak and thin. He'll be overpowered," Harry said without breathing. Merlin, miraculously, could follow what he said. In a much slower pace, with voice almost pleading, Harry added, "We already lost Pettigrew. We don't know how we could prove Sirius's innocence anymore. I don't want him to die as well."

Merlin presented to him the cage with Peter Pettigrew in. "Mister Pettigrew is here. I caught him on my way." Harry's eyes widened when Merlin handed the cage to an equally shocked Hermione. "I'll leave this to your hands, Miss Granger. Go straight to Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. _Nobody_ else. Explain to them the situation as clear as you could. They will understand immediately if you mention first that Mister Pettigrew is actually an Animagus."

Merlin tapped his wand lightly on Snape's head. "He's close to waking up," he explained. "It'll be disastrous if he wakes up in wrong timing. Don't worry, his body will follow you to the castle."

Merlin turned to an unconscious Ron, taking in his broken leg bounded with bandages. Nonverbally, he mended Ron's leg. "He'll need Madame Pomfrey, but he'll be alright," Merlin assured them. Hermione could only nod mutely. The rat shook inside the cage.

"Now, go," Merlin told her after tapping _Mobilicorpus_ to Ron. "They will move after you. You take care, Miss Granger."

The sound of a yelp and a pained whine rang. Harry turned to the woods with no small amount of concern.

"Is it him? The dog, is it Sirius Black?" Merlin asked softly. If Pettigrew was an Animagus, he wouldn't be surprised if Sirius Black was one too. No wonder Snuffles was too smart for a dog.

Harry nodded, his voice firm when he said, "He's innocent all along. I want to tell you the whole story, sir, but now—"

"I understand," Merlin interrupted gently. "That's all I have to hear for now." He laid his hands on Harry's shoulders, asking, "But are you sure you want to go after him? I'd rather you be safe in the castle. I could handle this alone."

Harry shook his head furiously. "He's my godfather," was his only explanation.

"Alright." Merlin smiled. "Let's go. Keep close to me."

At the sound of Sirius Black in trouble, they set off at a run. They followed the sound of yelping, and Merlin concluded it came from the lakeside.

They pelted towards it, with the cold making itself known, when a snarl broke their steps. It was the werewolf, advancing from the shadows of tall trees. It must have smelled humans nearby, and it was ready to feast on human flesh after being suppressed with its bloodlust for so long.

Merlin placed himself between the werewolf and Harry. The movement seemed to anger the werewolf when Merlin obscured Harry from its view. "When I tell you to, you have to run, Harry. Fast. Get Mister Black if you can, but I suggest going straight to the castle and get assistance," he whispered.

"Sir—"

Merlin boldly took a step forward. He could almost see the werewolf's hair rising at Merlin's approach. Merlin was aware of his uncanny effect on dark creatures. Long ago, even Freya in her Bastet form had been hostile to him, and only with his love for her did he affect its reaction. The wolf in Remus was another matter entirely—it wouldn't take kindly to anybody as it was 'chained' inside since Remus began his intake of Wolfsbane, and to add to that was the werewolf's instinctual wariness to Merlin and his magic. It was double the anger directed at Merlin, so to speak.

"Remus?" Merlin inched another step, forcing the werewolf a step back.

It didn't like the position it was in. Feeling threatened, the wolf growled dangerously before lifting its arm, sharp nails wanting to tear at Merlin savagely.

Merlin could barely hear Harry's terrified yell behind him when a roaring squawk and great flapping of wings came.

It was Buckbeak, valiantly defending Merlin and Harry from the werewolf. His beak and eyes were gleaming under the moonlight. He stood, claws ready, completely prepared for the werewolf's retaliation.

The werewolf went more furious at the new obstacle between it and its meal. It snarled at Buckbeak menacingly, and Merlin was sure they would battle to the death if need to be.

"Harry, this is your chance. Go!"

Harry ran without further ado to where the lake was. Unfortunately, the werewolf didn't miss Harry zipping past. Merlin hastily distracted it, whistling.

"Buckbeak, go after Harry." Merlin wasn't sure if he could be understood, but the hippogriff did follow Harry. The werewolf paid them no mind, knowing it could never get to Harry as long as Buckbeak was there to protect him.

Which left the werewolf with Merlin who was unguarded.

Going to the opposite direction, Merlin ran as fast as he could. Long legs carried him a few places ahead of the werewolf. Uninterested at the chase Merlin started, it sped past him, cornering.

Merlin abruptly stopped and checked the area. The shade was darker in their current location, and the trees were taller. There was barely a light seeping through the broad leaves. Satisfied that they were a good distance away, Merlin allowed his magic to move freely.

When he closed his eyes, there was a sudden shift in the air as the leaves swayed with the wind that came forth. His power thrummed through the darkness, sparks of golden hue swirling around Merlin's form. He stood like a beacon, and when he opened his eyes to address the werewolf, his blue irises turned the same shade as that of his magic.

"Remus," Merlin called again, compassion never once waning.

The werewolf was agitated at the strong force of magic it could sense around. It knew then that its supposed prey was a predator underneath, and its own prey trapped him.

"I won't harm you," Merlin said. He extended an open palm, his fingers gingerly finding the muzzle. There was a gash running across its nose. "You're tired."

Instead of snapping its jaw at Merlin's hand, it whimpered at his soft touch. The werewolf let out an odd noise between a growl and a whimper, as if debating within itself whether to treat Merlin as an enemy or part of its pack.

Merlin shushed the werewolf, and with a low voice, he hummed a tune. The werewolf lowered its defenses, nudging Merlin's palm. Chuckling at how doggish the werewolf turned, Merlin sang to it—he sang about a beautiful and kind young lady who was loved by a young man; he sang of the lady's secret, of show she turned into a beast every midnight; he sang of the young man whose love never wavered despite knowing the truth; he sang the elegy of the young man when his love died; and he sang of the special place of the lady on the young man's heart as he lived for eternity.

There was magic in music, and it varied on the strength of who it would come from. Merlin's song of Freya was enough to calm down the werewolf, rendering it asleep with its head on Merlin's lap.

"Rest, child. It has been a long night."

…

At the same moment Harry separated from his professor, the yelping stopped. When he came bounding to the ground beside the lake, without paying heed to the implication of the abrupt drop in temperature, he saw that Black had transformed back to his human form, crouched on all fours with his hands covering his head. Harry could hear him plead at something above him.

There was a swarm of Dementors overhead. They swooped down at Black, the whole mass of them gliding on top of the lake.

They mostly took turns at Black, but some had seen Harry and were now going after him. Harry mustered a happy memory he could think of and came up with what his godfather told him earlier—he would live with him and leave the Dursleys for good.

Fog started to obscure his vision, although it didn't linger when Buckbeak fended off the nearby Dementors. But the cloaked creatures weren't unrelenting either, too great were their need to feed, and here was Harry and Black in their midst.

Harry's gaze landed on Black who rolled on his back with a shudder. He was deathly pale, and his breathing shallow. He was bleeding on his shoulder from his encounter with the werewolf. His state got a lot worse, just when Harry naively thought it couldn't anymore.

 _He'll be alright_. Harry didn't know who he was convincing, but he needed this so much. " _Expecto_ …"

The cold crept to his insides. The scream of his mother that haunted him since last year returned, more pronounced. Buckbeak hit one of his wings on a Dementor that was hardly affected.

 _A happy memory. Think of something happy. Think of only Black. You'll go and live with him after this._ "Expecto—" Harry's mind unhelpfully supplied the reminder that Black was to receive the Dementor's kiss on the spot. _They'll suck out his soul. His body will remain breathing but he's… he's… he's as good as death… I—no…_

Harry convinced himself that Black would be proven innocent, now with Pettigrew brought to Dumbledore. The Headmaster would call on the authorities… _and they will call back the Dementors from Black. I just have to keep them from away from him for a while before the Minister arrive._

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Harry managed to gasp out. A Dementor halted, unable to walk past the silvery cloud that Harry's wand created.

Emboldened, Harry reminded himself that he wasn't alone. Buckbeak was with him. He shook his head when he started thinking that Buckbeak could fly them away from there. The Dementors was sure to follow, and Harry didn't want to risk it on air. _I have to hold on. I can do this._

Harry thought of every happy memory he has. He knew he didn't have a great lot of them, with the loss of his parents at his early age and the threat of Voldemort weighing down on him the most. But Harry has the little things that made him smile and laugh after all his losses. He has his best friends Ron and Hermione, and Hagrid whom they shared a pleasant conversation over tea a few hours ago. He has other friends at Hogwarts like Dean, Seamus, and Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, whose pranks made everybody else laugh. Harry remembered feeling grateful they passed their secret to him—the Marauder's Map.

Harry recalled Cho Chang's smile at him when they passed each other by. Her smiles never failed to make the butterflies in his stomach flutter, lightning up his bad mood at times.

Harry has Hedwig, his fiery owl who didn't like her cage but was always affectionate of Harry. He never had the luxury to own pets before, but Hedwig was more than that. She was also a loyal friend.

Harry recalled befriending Dobby, and he knew that the house elf has his back just like Ron and Hermione. Harry had been proud and elated when Dobby defended him from Lucius Malfoy and declared his loyalty to Harry and Harry alone.

Harry has people like Colin Creevy who has nothing but admiration for him. The Gryffindor who was one year his junior always made him warm in embarrassment at the open admiration, but Harry was glad to see he could inspire those younger than him.

Harry remembered the belief of his Quidditch teammates at his talents. They never looked down at him for being the youngest, confident that they would win with him on the team. The team captain, Oliver Wood, has expressed his support of him, as strong as Professor McGonagall's. Their victory at the House Cup was one of Harry's most glorious moments after his first experience with the broom and flying on Buckbeak's back.

He had been congratulated by Professor Lupin then, his most favorite professor as of date. His approval meant so much to Harry that every praise gave him joy.

Harry has Professor Emrys, who was always looking out for him, not letting him spend the Hogsmeade weekend alone in the castle when he couldn't join Ron and Hermione. He and Professor Loki were the people who encouraged his investigation on the Chamber of Secrets when others would prohibit him, at the same time protecting him from dangers that came along the adventure. He might not have trusted Professor Loki at the beginning, but Harry would be forever grateful when he saved his life.

Lastly, Harry remembered catching a glimpse of his parents through the Mirror of Erised. They might be projection of his desire, but he had seen them clearly. He remembered promising he would make them proud of him and that he would never waste Dumbledore's belief and trust in him.

All these little moments and wonderful people wouldn't have happened to Harry if he didn't discover he was a wizard. His life changed when he received his Hogwarts letter, and everything wouldn't be possible if not for that single moment.

Harry balled all his memories, the smaller pieces making up a larger whole. He would experience more loss and disappointment on the way, but he would stand strong through it all because right now he already was when others at his age would have keeled over at his worst experiences.

Harry felt the surge of magic pulsing together with the waves of emotion washing through him.

All that was left was letting it all out.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A magnificent white stag galloped across the surface of the frozen lake. Its immense bright light shone, driving away the cold and illuminating the lake and the dark woods within the perimeter.

As the stag drove away the Dementors feasting on Harry and Black, Harry felt Buckbeak's light nip on the collar of his shirt before he could fell face first by Black's side. His surroundings went blurred while Buckbeak gently laid him down on the ground. As his vision dimmed on the sides, he could hear the lapping of lake water near him, confirming that Dementors left the vicinity. His hand found Black's— _Sirius's_ arm and felt warmth radiating from him.

Sirius was alive.

Buckbeak loomed over them as if promising he would stay on guard for any dangers that might arrive. Satisfied, Harry felt his consciousness rapidly slipping from him, his need to succumb to his exhaustion growing. Relenting, Harry closed his eyes tiredly.

Though not without making out a huge transparent shape of another Patronus with enormous wings and long tail flying overhead.

* * *

"Professor Emrys," Dumbledore called pleasantly after knocking on the door and was asked to come in.

Merlin almost jolted from his seat at the voice, pausing in the middle of writing his letter to Loki to be delivered by a raven, Hugin. He wasn't expecting Dumbledore to visit him this early in the morning. "Headmaster," he said after recovering. "Good morning." He stood up properly, smiling.

"Pardon the intrusion, professor. I wasn't sure if you were already up and about. A few people from the hospital wing has been looking for you."

"Oh? How are they, sir?"

"Professor Snape has been suffering from extreme disappointment, but everybody is peachy," Dumbledore answered lightly, hands folded on his back as he surveyed Merlin's office. He had never been in here, Merlin realized. "I was told it was because of your aid last night."

"It wasn't much, but I was glad to help," Merlin said sincerely. He paused, his tone turning more serious. "What happened to Mister Pettigrew?"

"Taken to Azkaban. He's charged with the crimes once thought committed by Sirius Black. He will receive the same sentence Mister Black had."

"Will they perform the Kiss on him?"

Merlin's disapproval must have shown since Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly behind his half-moon spectacles. "No, unless, of course, he breaks out of Azkaban. Though I doubt it will happen again. Before he was taken, he was registered as an illegal Animagus. They will contain him in a cell where he will not be able to transform."

"I see." Merlin nodded, relieved. "And Mister Black?"

"He's allowed not to register, and I think the Ministry owed him that, at least, for not having a trial after he was arrested," Dumbledore said. "He will be tried after two days' time which will serve only as a formality. He was officially pardoned an hour after Mister Pettigrew was interrogated under Veritaserum by the Ministry and confessed his allegiance to Lord Voldemort."

A grin bloomed at Merlin's face. He wasn't aware of this. After he dropped Harry at the hospital wing and helped Madame Pomfrey on Remus, who was yet to revert into a human, he heard the true story of Sirius Black from the Mediwitch before retreating to his quarters and caught some shut-eye. "That's amazing."

"They'll be glad to tell you the rest once you visit them," Dumbledore said with a small smile of his own. "But it's not entirely the reason of my visit."

Merlin stood straighter.

"Harry will soon move with his godfather, and he'll call it home," Dumbledore told him. "The protection his remaining blood relative provides will be rendered useless. I am not under the illusion that it will stop Harry, or his godfather, from living together." He paused, thoughtful. "I came here today to ask you whether you know of strong household protection charms that can be placed on Harry's new residence."

Merlin was surprised at what Dumbledore was asking him.

"I was told you are a good researcher," Dumbledore answered before Merlin could ask. "And that you have vast knowledge in Old Religion. Old magic was invoked by Lily Evans when she sacrificed her life for Harry, and I've been wondering if the same brand of magic can be placed on Harry's new home."

Merlin didn't miss what the Headmaster was insinuating, but frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore had found out about him, and possibly Loki too, long since they applied for their teaching positions. Dumbledore could make the best impression of Gaius with his knowing look; he was just lacking Gaius's semi-permanent raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore seemed to read Merlin's mind. He looked rather amused. "Ah, let me know when you found it, professor."

"You'll be hearing from me soon, Headmaster," Merlin promised with a grin.

…

"You're leaving?"

Lupin looked up and paused his packing. He saw Emrys by the doorway. "Yes, I am. I'm only a substitute, remember?"

"But the Headmaster could have make you a regular. I don't think he's against two Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors," Emrys said. "Besides, I can see that you like teaching."

Lupin smiled. That was true. "Indeed, but I'm afraid the parents will not take kindly with a werewolf teaching their children." At Emrys's frown, Lupin added, "Professor Snape might have let it slip that I am one."

Defeated, Emrys sighed at the revelation. "Well, I wish you all the best."

"It's nice knowing you, Emrys."

Emrys snorted. "Come off it. Don't think I'll let you miss our tea sessions." He brightened at an idea. "You can meet Loki next time."

"I suppose," Lupin replied, amused. "You take care as well. And good luck with your teaching."

"Yeah, I'll probably owl you to ask for tips sometimes." Emrys approached his desk. "If you need somebody to talk to, I'm an owl away."

Lupin closed his briefcase. "I should say the same." He offered a hand.

Emrys considered the proffered hand before jokingly batting it away and embracing Lupin like a brother. Lupin returned the gesture with a pat on Emrys's back.

"You will never tell me, will you?" Lupin asked when Emrys pulled away. Emrys looked at him quizzically. "Your secret." Lupin smiled mildly. "Don't get me wrong—it's yours to keep so I won't pry. Although it makes me unusually curious, I trust your secrecy."

"One day, you'll know," Emrys assured him. "I promise."

Lupin believed it.

 _ **end**_

* * *

 **To be continued at Harry's Fourth Year**


	3. Dive

Set during Harry's summer vacation before fourth year. Skip if you want.

 **Disclaimer:** Characters associated are not mine and belong to their respective owners.

* * *

"Sirius?" Remus called with a hint of surprise. He expected to arrive at Sirius's flat with the lights all dim. It was a quarter past two, and Remus thought Sirius would be sleeping soundly by this hour, or much earlier, like how he has been doing since being officially pardoned. Sirius's flat was the very first properties of his that he managed to get back immediately—only an hour after the trial—followed by his wand. It didn't surprise Remus one bit that Sirius would make use of his first day of freedom (because his days on the run after escaping Azkaban wasn't entirely freedom) by reacquainting himself with his plush bed that miraculously retained their quality, along with the other important furniture. Remus suspected Sirius had enchanted them all years ago out of boredom.

Sirius, who was lounging on an armchair in front of the hearth, looked up as if he was roused from sleep, though Remus knew he was awake and was merely deep in thought, eyes lost on the crackling fire. "Hello, Remus." He smiled weakly. "Let me help you with those." He stood up, carrying some of the baggage Remus brought with him, dumping them on the couch. "You're late."

"I told you it might take me past midnight," Remus said, removing the strap of his satchel from his shoulder. "How's everything? Harry?"

"We had dinner. I was supposed to make something for him, but turns out he's better than me at cooking." Sirius smiled mildly. "Everything's… good," he added, but he wasn't directly looking at Remus when he did. "So, uh, is this all of your stuffs?"

"Yes. I left the unimportant ones at the cottage. I might have the place rented." Remus could use the extra income now that he was unemployed.

Sirius snorted, as if he knew exactly what Remus was thinking. "If it's money, you know I have—"

"I know," Remus interrupted gently. "And thank you, but you're already asking me to live with you and Harry for free. I can't possibly—"

"And you can't possibly think that I won't need help with _these_ ," Sirius said with a sigh, waving his hands around him. "I mean, that's most of the reason why I asked you to live with us. You're the person I trust most right now with Harry."

Remus softened. "I understand, but you have to know that I'm also doing this out of my friendship with James and Lily as well. I want to be an uncle to Harry too, after the years I couldn't be there for him, so it won't be just a job for me where you'll pay me for my services."

"That's not what I mean. I'm saying that you won't have to look for a job. I have enough to support the three of us for a lifetime. Did you know that the Ministry gave me some more for being wrongly imprisoned? So there's that."

Remus shook his head. It wasn't about that at all. He couldn't just stay at home doing nothing everyday. He would like to be productive too while being a guardian to Harry even if he knew it also entailed helping Sirius to get back on his feet, which was likely a full-time job of its own. But Sirius was also a grown man who could handle himself, and he would ask help if he needed it. "I'll still look for a job after I'm done settling down. In three days' time maybe."

"Fine, you stubborn wolf," Sirius grumbled, making Remus chuckle. "Take my room upstairs. I'll sleep here on the couch."

"I'll take the couch."

"Nonsense. You're guest," Sirius insisted, turning sheepish, and Remus thought Sirius must have only remembered then that he has a bachelor's flat. "I guess I kind of got too excited to ask you to move in. I forgot about the number of rooms."

Remus waved a hand dismissively before lifting his bags to bring upstairs. He shook his head when Sirius made a move to help him. "It's alright, Sirius. I can manage this. You should sleep."

An odd sort of expression flashed briefly at Sirius's face. It was too fast for Remus to make out. "You'll like my bed. It's still squishy and soft. It feels like heaven."

"Are you really sure you don't want me to take the couch instead?" Remus asked, fairly amused.

"I've slept on worse," Sirius whispered. "Good night, Remus."

"Good night, Sirius," Remus replied before climbing the stairs.

He was a bit dissatisfied to leave it at that, to be honest. They have never spoke more than a few sentences to each other since Sirius was pardoned, which was expected since Remus didn't think Sirius would open up that easy with his time in Azkaban. Maybe never. But Remus was patient, and he would be there for Sirius to talk to no matter how long it would take him to have the courage to. Remus was willing to listen to what might be occupying Sirius's mind, because there surely was, with how deep in thought he was earlier by the fire.

Remus lied down the mattress. It was as soft as Sirius told him. He stared at the white ceiling, thinking of how Sirius must have done the same to convince himself that he was no longer in Azkaban and that Harry was actually asleep in the bedroom next door. Harry was living with his godfather just like how James and Lily would have preferred it.

Remus fell asleep wondering if James and Lily were looking down at them right now, smiling at how cramped the three of them in Sirius's two bedroom flat.

* * *

Sirius and Harry were already up when Remus went downstairs the next day.

"Good morning, Harry, Sirius," Remus greeted, much to Harry's surprise upon seeing him.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry beamed. "I didn't know—when did you come sir?"

"I only arrived last night, Harry." Remus told him. He turned to Sirius quizzically. "He didn't know?"

"Told you I got too excited." Sirius just shrugged. "Tea?"

Remus nodded in thanks. He sat beside Harry who offered him bacons without forgetting to call him _professor_. "I'm not your professor anymore, you know. Remus is alright."

"Right, si—Remus," Harry said, looking down with a flush.

Remus smiled. Harry would get used to it.

"Harry cooked again," Sirius said, examining his toast. "I should be the one doing that."

"Force of habit. Sorry." Harry didn't look the least bit apologetic.

"Harry is sensible enough to not let you near the stove and burn the bacons." Remus hummed approvingly at the meat. Harry must have used his years in cooking for the Dursleys to use. Remus shook the thought away lest he ruin his appetite.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm a decent cook." Sirius stabbed at the scrambled egg indignantly. "Harry is just better."

"Fortunately for us." Remus shrugged, unable to resist, making Harry laugh a little and Sirius scowling without heat.

For a moment Remus had the chance to observe Sirius across him. He was groomed, wearing his old clothes that were now a few sizes too big for his gaunt form. Sirius had shaved most of his unkempt facial hair but maintained his moustache and hair. Sirius was yet to gain back most of his mass and healthy complexion, but so far he was doing well. Though from Remus's position, he couldn't help but note the dark rings underneath Sirius's eyes—which could possibly mean he was being plagued by nightmares, and while it wasn't entirely surprising given the years he spent every waking moment with his own demons and fears, Remus wished Sirius wouldn't shoulder it alone if it was troubling him.

Remus would have to remind Sirius that he wasn't alone in this.

Sirius broke Remus out of reverie by inviting Remus for some house-hunting.

"Oh, where are you planning to look?"

"We haven't decided yet, but we're thinking somewhere near King's Cross Station. Would that work well for you?"

Remus blinked, startled at being asked. He didn't really mind, as long as he was away from Hogsmeade where almost anybody could recognize him since his secret was revealed, but he didn't prefer living too far away from Hogwarts either, nor too near to take away the Hogwarts Express experience from Harry. They would be near the Muggle locations too, and Remus might as well look for jobs there. It was an ideal location.

"It does," Remus assured them. "I'll come with you."

"Great." A grin flitted across Sirius's face. "Let's finish breakfast so we can start."

…

After checking three two-storey detached houses (because a semi meant closer to neighbors which wasn't ideal with Remus's situation) and two more bungalows, they decided they found the perfect one.

It was three-storey detached house by the end of the street, with the back leading to the woods which was a bonus. Sirius was planning to build a cottage further in the woods for Remus's monthly transformations. Remus couldn't talk Sirius out of it, because for one, it would be safer that way, and two, Sirius was a too stubborn to listen to Remus anyway.

The red-bricked house came with a small garage where Sirius could store his motorbike that Hagrid returned. There was a small front yard that could use some tending and a backyard where Remus could grow herbs for basic potions (he was terrible at potions, but he could manage the simple ones for cuts and bruises). There was a clearing beyond it—before one could reach the entrance to the woods—which was large enough to serve as a practice field for Harry or for Padfoot to roll around.

There were five rooms: three bedrooms for them and two that would serve as guestrooms at the second floor, along with a spacious third floor where Sirius was planning to serve as a library of sorts. It was a good thing that Harry was a moderate reader or else Remus would think Sirius was overly considering his comforts when he was only an extra resident who was invited to tag along.

"Think it's good?" Sirius suddenly asked, coming beside Remus who was leaning by the kitchen counter. Harry was upstairs, doing his own tour. "Personally, I think this suits our arrangements."

"What does Harry think?"

Sirius frowned. "He obviously likes it, but I'm asking you. Do _you_ like it?"

Remus was touched at the value Sirius was putting into Remus's opinion. He smiled reassuringly. "I think it's perfect."

It was decided that they were to move next week Friday after signing the legal documentations. Remus didn't know it was that easy to finalize everything, but then again they live in a magical community where time was rarely an issue on this kind of matters.

They got their late lunch on a local diner where they spent more than an hour listening to Harry's stories since he started at Hogwarts. Sirius would occasionally send Remus these glances of fondness for his godson, and he would react incredulously at the peak of Harry's end of the schoolyear misadventures which so far consisted of encounters with Voldemort, namely Harry's DADA professor, Quirrel, and a basilisk living in the Chamber of Secrets. Sirius managed to be somehow offended that he didn't get the chance to find and explore the chamber as a student. Remus was thinking they were lucky not to, even if Sirius and James were the cleverest of the students in their year. This led to Sirius regaling Harry with the stories of Marauders, knowingly talking more about James while Remus was the one to share more about Lily as they were close friends first. Harry was glad to have somebody telling him about his parents and giving him more substance than what pictures could.

Harry was a practical teenager who only knew what he needed despite Sirius's insistence to indulge him. Other than the new clothes to replace his hand-me-downs and the others that were important for the changing seasons, Harry told him that he need nothing more. Sirius didn't know whether to be proud that Harry got Lily's better genes and not James's materialistic tendencies born from being an only child of a well-off family, or be disappointed that he couldn't shower Harry gifts to cover the thirteen years of missed birthdays and Christmases. Harry assured him that the Firebolt Sirius sent him has already covered it all.

Harry was the first to bid good night, apparently tired from the house-hunting and convincing his godfather not to buy him everything in every shop they had visited.

"He's a funny kid," Sirius said out of the blue. "Who doesn't like to be spoiled?"

"Well, he's not James, and Harry grew up having very little."

"Huh. Shouldn't he be more materialistic?"

"Quite the contrary. It's because that he has very little that he knows how to evaluate what is only necessary for him." It was a bit challenging to explain to a person who was born with a silver spoon in the mouth.

Sirius was quiet for a while before murmuring, "He's a bit like you then."

"Except I don't really have a choice than to live frugally," Remus mused. "Let's be thankful that Harry's mature for his age."

Sirius grunted noncommittally and then seemingly fell into another deep thinking. Remus used to remember a time when Sirius hardly think things through. He had been a man of action; he and James were. Remus was the designated person to think for them.

"Are you having nightmares?" Remus asked. Straightforward was always the best way when it concerned Sirius.

"Yes." Sirius didn't elaborate, and Remus let him keep it. "But I usually sleep as a dog so it's not much of a problem."

"I thought you were advised to relearn sleeping as a human?" If Remus understood it correctly, sleeping as Padfoot was Sirius's acquired mechanism from his imprisonment. While there was nothing wrong with that, Sirius was supposed to discard this kind of habit in order for him to adjust.

"That's the thing—I couldn't. My mind is not exactly helping me relax on my own bed. Funny, that." He let out a humorless laugh.

"Well, eventually, you'll have to learn how."

"It's not like I can do that overnight," Sirius snapped.

"I know. What I mean is you have to take baby steps on how to, Sirius," Remus said calmly.

"Can we please not talk about this?" Sirius huffed, his mood turning sour. "I'm already reminded every night that I find it difficult to sleep properly. I don't need you to rub it on my face too."

Remus went silent after that, not wanting to rile Sirius further. He didn't leave though, since that could send a message that he was giving up on Sirius. This was just the first of many, and Remus wanted Sirius to know that he was willing to stand by him patiently.

Remus relaxed his back further on the couch, intending to close his eyes briefly. He must have doze off because he was roused by a nudge on his knee and a whine.

It was Padfoot staring up at him, his head finding the top of Remus's leg. His eyes were downcast when Remus regarded him sleepily. Remus knew then that Sirius was trying to apologize for snapping at him.

Remus scratched the back of Padfoot's ear, smiling down at him. "It's alright, you know. Come up here." He gestured at the space beside him.

Padfoot gave him a slobby lick, much to Remus's amusement. He was too exhausted to even protest, and at the same time he didn't have the heart to hold it against Sirius; he was awfully affectionate as a dog.

That, at least, didn't change.

Half of Padfoot was on Remus's lap with finger carding his jet-black fur when Padfoot yawned widely.

"Sleep," Remus told him. Padfoot happily complied, already comfortable in his current position.

With his hand absently massaging Padfoot, Remus found it easy to be lulled back to sleep after Sirius.

* * *

"Why don't I take the couch tonight?" Remus suggested the following evening.

"Guests don't sleep on the couch."

That seemed to be Sirius's winning argument. "Alright, then we both sleep upstairs."

Sirius visibly tensed. Remus had to think whether the suggestion was that terrible—he did spend a great deal of musing over it. "What?"

"I noticed yesterday that you have an extra mattress. I can set up on the floor, and you take the bed," Remus explained.

"Oh." Sirius's expression has the interesting mix of embarrassment and relief and… disappointment? "That's not a bad idea, but I prefer the floor. Me as Padfoot won't mind the hard ground."

"If I let you, it will defeat the purpose of what I'm trying to do."

Sirius has this defeated look when he remembered the baby steps Remus told him.

In the end, they settled with Sirius on the floor but not as Padfoot, and Remus was almost at the edge of the bed, his hand dangling below near Sirius.

Three hours later, they were still in the same position, very much awake. Sirius was doing nothing but toss and turn under the covers for the past hours, while Remus was mulling whether this was a good idea at all or not. He only felt bad for forcing Sirius restlessness when he could have rested way earlier as a dog.

Finally, Remus relented with a small sigh. "Sorry, that was stupid. Go on, be comfortable."

Sirius didn't need more prompting. A second later, there was a bark and a blur of movements until Padfoot was at Remus's side, nudging him to ask to scoot over the left side. Remus made room for him, and he got Padfoot's head wriggling its way underneath Remus's right arm to tuck himself in.

Remus snorted. "Ah, so this is what you like, hmm?" he said as Padfoot squirmed to lay his head on Remus's stomach. There was a short lurch at Remus's abdomen when he reminded himself that this was still Sirius, and if he was human at the moment, his head would be lying on Remus's stomach. It was an unwarranted thought, and Remus immediately willed it away.

His fingers skritched Padfoot's head, going behind an ear. Padfoot was fond of the gesture and liked the attention Remus was giving him. Remus couldn't help but think Sirius was more agreeable in this form and more honest with what he wanted, which made it so easy for him to be understood.

Too bad Remus wasn't after easy.

He was prepared for long terms and the accompanying difficulty. Because Sirius was worth it. He deserved more than easy and simple.

And just like last night, Padfoot was the first to slumber with Remus's fingers weaving through his hair.

"Good night, Sirius."

* * *

Remus has already sent a letter to Dumbledore yesterday morning. He penned another, for Emrys, this afternoon, mostly asking how the young professor has been. The last bit was about the household protection Emrys would be administering per Dumbledore's orders. The Headmaster was confident with Emrys's abilities, and honestly, Remus shared the same confidence. If Dumbledore himself has no doubts on the strength of Emrys's protection charm—the kind that could withstand and could go past a Dark Lord's detection—then Remus has no qualms.

Harry suggested that Remus use Hedwig. The snow-white owl was excited to stretch her wings, and on the early evening of the same day, a reply flew in with Hedwig.

Emrys told him that he was doing alright and thanked Remus for his concern. He mentioned basking on a lakeside at the very moment he was writing the letter. He inquired about Remus's health, which was fine by the way; the full moon wasn't for another two weeks. Emrys sent his regards to Sirius and Harry, along with an additional note that Remus must have taken care well of Sirius. There was a curious semicolon followed by a closing parenthesis, which Emrys explained that they form a wink. If viewed sideways, Remus supposed they could pass as one. Though as to why Emrys would include one in his missive, Remus has no idea.

Emrys had written that they would see each other the day before they move to the new house, and he would bring something, he said, as a housewarming gift.

 _P.S. I was told that bedside therapy works best, but then again, Mister Black is not bedridden for you to do so. I guess you'll have to make do standing, or better yet… ;)_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emrys_

Cryptic as always, Remus thought amusedly, shaking his head. He returned the letter to its envelope by the bedside table. Only then did he notice Sirius watching him by the doorway, fresh from the bath and was toweling his hair.

"Hey," Sirius said as way of greeting, glancing at the letter but didn't ask about it.

Remus, who was somehow getting used to the silent inquiry Sirius tend to do these days, said, "That was from Emrys. He sends his regards to you and asked how you're doing. I'll reply tomorrow." Sirius didn't answer when he flopped down the mattress. "Dumbledore replied to my letter, and he said that Emrys will be the one to place the protection charms on the new house."

Sirius didn't look too happy at that. "Why is he letting a stranger take care of something that important?" His voice was still even. Remus took it as a positive sign that Sirius was willing to hear reasonable explanations.

"Dumbledore trusts him, and truthfully, I don't know myself why he believes Emrys could do it better than him, but you know Dumbledore—he also acknowledges the capabilities of those around him, and maybe he knows this is Emrys's area of expertise."

"That doesn't mean he can just trust somebody we barely know!" Sirius said hotly, his temper rising again. "We can protect Harry, yes, but what if we were sabotaged from the inside?"

"I understand your concern, Sirius." Remus didn't forget about Peter. They learned a lesson from that the hard way. "I don't know how else I can explain this, but I trust him. I trust Emrys with this. I can't explain it properly—the wolf reacts badly at him at first, then when the last full moon came, it was as if he tamed it. The human side of me can completely trust him with my life, Sirius. It's inexplicable to me the most, but I know how I feel."

Judging the way Sirius almost threw away the towel he was holding, it seemed to be the wrong thing to say. "Of course, for somebody you only knew for a year, you're awfully too chummy with him."

"What's the difference, Sirius?" Remus asked quietly. "We knew Peter since eleven years old, but he still betrayed his best friends."

Admittedly, it was unfair for Sirius to bring it up, knowing it remained a sensitive subject since it came with the memory of his wrongful imprisonment and the death of his best friend who was almost like a brother, and Remus understood perfectly where Sirius was coming from. But he felt strongly about this, and while he wasn't against Sirius being picky of who to trust, Remus didn't want him to be suspicious of almost everybody else too. Sirius would end up a recluse, being unable to separate himself from that prisoner who survived Azkaban.

Remus knew he hit a sore spot when Sirius instantly clammed up, the fury vanishing from his features and was replaced by something else. If Remus stared for a moment longer, he would begin feeling guilty for his words.

"Sleep on it, will you?" Remus glanced at the letter Emrys sent. "If it will help, you can read his letter for yourself. I won't mind." He moved to the door, pausing. "I'll take the couch tonight. Just… think about it, Sirius. Good night."

Remus lingered at the hall for a few minutes, wondering whether he did the right thing by leaving Sirius alone.

But if it would help Sirius clear his mind, then Remus would gladly leave him to his own devices.

* * *

Harry wasn't oblivious to the palpable tension the next morning.

He ate his breakfast without showing that he was aware of it. He didn't know what happened, and he would leave it to his godfather and Remus to fix it, though he couldn't help but feel saddened that they were talking indirectly through him, avoiding each other when it was just the two of them. The ignoring part, though, was mostly from Sirius, but Remus wasn't making any move to address it either. When Remus left for almost half of the day to hunt for a job, Harry was left with his pensive godfather.

Harry retreated to bed early that night, but after trying to sleep with a heavy mind, he decided to write a letter to Hermione instead to ask for advice. She has a better grasp on matters like this.

…

"Can I talk to you upstairs?" Sirius asked the minute Remus arrived, an hour before midnight.

Remus nodded, following Sirius to his bedroom. Sirius sat heavily on the bed, unable to look directly at Remus in the eye when he slid beside him. "I'm sorry," Sirius muttered weakly.

Sirius was apologizing too often, Remus thought with dismay. "I'm not asking for apologies, Sirius." Remus looked ahead. "Take your time. All I'm asking is that consider others' goodwill. While it's alright to be wary, not all of them are out there to betray you at the first second they get."

Remus could see that Sirius was digesting the words with careful thinking, without the anger this time. Remus let him to it, pulling the extra mattress out to make the bed.

"Bed or mattress?"

"Bed, I suppose," Sirius replied absently. "Actually, forget about the mattress. We can share the bed."

"Ah, so you're planning to sleep as Padfoot tonight."

"I couldn't really sleep properly as a human last night so I transformed," Sirius said honestly. "I'm planning not to tonight." He looked hesitant. "I mean, I'm not planning to sleep as a dog."

Remus's eyebrows raised. He blinked multiple times, unsure if Sirius was implying what Remus was thinking.

Sirius seemed to take the reaction differently. "Never mind what I said. It's stupid. We're not kids anymore."

"No, we're not," Remus said lightly. "But we're grown men, Sirius. We can be adult about this." He pulled the covers, occupying the right side this time. He regarded with a smile Sirius's slightly widened eyes. "Well? Do you prefer this side instead?"

"N-No. It's fine. I'm fine here," Sirius finally said, tentatively lying down beside Remus. He stared at the ceiling, contemplating.

"I should have known you prefer it this way," Remus mused. "Padfoot does, but I thought he just want to be pet to sleep."

"That's unconscious, honest," Sirius said, not removing his eyes from upwards.

Remus made himself comfortable, gazing up at the same view Sirius was focusing at. He wondered what Sirius was seeing above, if there was something else there aside from the ceiling.

"You could have told me," Remus murmured. "I don't really mind."

"You don't just ask your mate to sleep beside you because you're a coward to fall asleep."

"It's not cowardice, Sirius, and I'm more than willing to give you support."

"I know," Sirius whispered, relenting. "I know you mean well."

There was another silence that ensued, and upon hearing Sirius's even breathing, Remus thought he was fast asleep—until Sirius spoke suddenly.

"I know him. Emrys. I already met him while I was on the run."

Remus glanced at him.

"He and Draco brought me to Hagrid after some Slytherin boys made fun with Padfoot," Sirius recounted. "I didn't expect Lucius's kid to be kind to a mere Hogsmeade dog, but I saw that he's quite close with Emrys, so I figured he's a good influence to Draco."

"Draco, huh?"

"Yeah. I often heard from Hagrid that he went to visit me, but often I was out that time looking for Wormtail. Draco would leave treats for Snuffles, and Hagrid would feed it to me."

This was the first time Remus learned that Sirius was already inside the Hogwarts ground for a while. "Snuffles?"

Remus missed the way Sirius's cheeks reddened slightly. Thank Merlin for the dimness of the room. "Madam Rosmerta kind of started calling me that while I was around Hogsmeade as Padfoot. They mistook the two consecutive bark as yes when I meant no." Remus snorted. "I used to help around the village, and they reward me with food. The little kids and the old men and women adored me for being an intelligent dog. It was actually nice, except the fleas were terror."

Sirius waited for Remus to stop chuckling, elbowing Remus mildly. "I saw Emrys often around Hogsmeade. He's nice with the locals and vendors, polite and very respectful whenever I was watching him interact with the others." Sirius was quiet for a second. "You mentioned that he calmed down the wolf. That was how I felt too when he first touched Padfoot. I'm not sure if it has something to do with the glow he has."

"Glow?"

"I told you that I often watch him whenever he was around Hogsmeade. It's because I see him in a different color when I'm Padfoot. He's not like the others who are in the limited and wrong colors when I'm a dog. He's in the shade of gold so it's like he's glowing."

Somehow, it wasn't such a shock, Remus thought idly, that it only brought more questions about Emrys. "That young man is full of surprises."

"He kind of resembled that Ravenclaw Prefect back when we were attending Hogwarts. What was his name again?"

"Arthur Collins?"

"That. That fella you were crushing on."

Remus frowned. "Arthur was his uncle, he said. And, no, I wasn't 'crushing' on him, Sirius."

"Could have fooled me," Sirius grumbled. "What's with the past tense?"

"Emrys mentioned that Arthur passed away with an incurable dragon pox."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Poor man. He was young and a talented wizard. He could have made a name for himself."

"Told you you're crushing on him."

"No, I'm acknowledging his talents, Sirius. There's a difference."

Sirius grunted. "Well, Emrys isn't so bad. Young, but they do say age is but a number. He knows your secret and accepts you for what you are. He's a rare find."

"If you're saying what I think you mean then no." Remus huffed out a small laugh. "He could pass as my son."

"Since when did you care of other's opinion when it's not about the wolf?"

"It's ridiculous, Sirius," Remus said. "He's a good friend of mine. I'm older than him, but sometimes I feel like I'm the younger one between us."

"He makes you feel young then?"

"Shut up, you." Remus's elbowed him forcefully. "I mean, he's like this wise old man when he speaks. Think of it like speaking with somebody old and with a lot of experience, like Dumbledore, except Emrys looks young to be an old wizard like him."

"Maybe he is, but he's using a potion that makes him retain his youth," Sirius suggested lightly. Remus wasn't fooled at the lack of sniggering.

"That's reaching."

"Wait. His family name is Emrys, like Merlin, right? Maybe he's actually Merlin, except he's not old and not sporting a majestic beard that can rival Dumbledore's. Hmm, I'd like to see them compare facial hairs. Two old men and one beard."

Remus burst laughing, which was followed by Sirius's own barking laugh. If they didn't stop, they could have woken Harry next door. If they didn't already.

"Damn. This is when I hate my imagination. I _can_ totally imagine that," Sirius groused.

"You brought it to yourself."

"Mmm. I did. I feel stupid now." Sirius punctuated the statement with a yawn.

"Great timing. Seems like you'll be sleeping with that image in your head," Remus remarked dryly.

"It's in yours too."

"No, because I know how the real Emrys looks like, and he's a young man."

"Ah, and you're picturing the innocent young man. That's kinky. Not that I have anything against your preference, and the man is good-looking—"

"Sirius!"

"—but couldn't you picture somebody else who doesn't look like your boy crush years ago?"

Remus smacked Sirius on the arm then, not that hard and was bordering playful. "Nobody is picturing anybody, Sirius."

Sirius grunted, his eyes closed when he edged closer to Remus, their shoulders touching. "Well, you can picture me. Not the current me, mind. I'm all skin and bones right now. But you remember my magnificent build before, yeah?" he mumbled sleepily.

"No, sadly, I don't," Remus shot back, humoring Sirius's mumbling.

"I know you do," Sirius insisted, the lines on his face relaxing. "Sleep on it."

It wasn't long when a snore sounded beside Remus. His lips quirked into a smile.

"Good night too, Sirius."

* * *

It was remarkable how easy they fell into a routine afterwards.

Remus thought he found the right recipe for Sirius's good sleep, and Sirius was making the most out of their setup, sleeping in until late mornings if he could get it. Sometimes it would only be Harry and Remus eating their breakfast on time, giving Remus the chance to get to know Harry further. Remus avoided asking about the Dursleys, and Harry was more than willing to share his opinions on his professors instead. Often, he and Remus would cook together and wake Sirius.

They were complete at the table during lunches and dinners. Though sometimes, Remus would be absent for the latter, coming home late after searching for a job. His next goal was to search within Muggle areas since Remus supposed he has more chances if he was applying for a Muggle job.

At nights, he and Sirius fell into the habit of sleeping side-by-side. The bed was large enough to accommodate them comfortably with a wide space between them—which hardly mattered when Sirius would inch towards him. Sirius didn't appear to be consciously doing so when he and Remus were deep in conversations.

Apparently, Sirius found it tiring to talk and mostly tease Remus on certain things that he would fall asleep in the middle of Remus's discussion on certain brands of magic. Sirius complained once during lunch that Remus's voice drowsed him. Harry defended Remus's voice then, saying it wasn't the case at all. Sirius was pouting the whole duration of the meal, dramatically claiming he was betrayed by his own godson.

Remus and Sirius would occasionally wake at different positions, sometimes their limbs entangled, sometimes with Sirius almost completely across Remus _horizontally,_ which was both a fascinating and a ridiculous feat.

They've gotten on compromising positions too, and yet the first thing that would register at Remus's sleep-addled brain was that Sirius hogged the covers again.

And when Sirius would experience troubling nightmares, Remus would wake him gently and have Sirius talk to him. On times Sirius wasn't in the mood to speak of it, Remus would encourage him to turn to Padfoot knowing it would help Sirius. Remus would get an armful of Padfoot afterwards, his soft fur tickling Remus's nose as he tucked himself under Remus's chin.

Their friendship was domesticity at its finest, but Remus could think of nothing else to describe them more accurately.

On their last day at Sirius's flat, they finished furbishing the house they would move into the next day. Harry was the one to do most around due to his utter excitement. Harry and Sirius applied a new coat of paint on Harry's bedroom that was of his choosing, and in Remus's opinion, the two spent more time fooling around than paint. He had stood there watching them, liking how Harry was always laughing and smiling since Sirius officially adopted him, and how Sirius seemed to bear a healthy color recently. Remus attributed it to Sirius's decent rests and lessening nightmares, though overall, he was thinking it might be the happiness at being with Harry. Those two deserved to have each other after all they have been through.

Remus wondered then whether he was intruding at the seemingly parent-son bond Sirius and Harry naturally have.

He got his answer when Sirius dragged him in their game, splattered Remus with green paint that had Harry shamelessly laughing at Remus's expense, thus starting the first, great paint war under their home.

 _Their home_. Remus liked the sound of that.

…

"We still smell like paint," Sirius commented, his nose scrunching. His nose has always been sensitive.

"I wouldn't be if you didn't start it," Remus pointed out. The bath he had with a strawberry scented shower gel was somewhat useless.

"Now where was the fun in that?"

"Exactly."

Sirius grinned, arms folding on his abdomen. "Bad Moony. What will James and Lily say to us being terrible influences to Harry?"

"They'll say it's a long time coming." Remus looked at his side, meeting Sirius's gray eyes. He smirked in return.

"You're right." Sirius rolled on his stomach, hovering by Remus's shoulder. "You were just as mischievous, but you weren't an idiot like us. Too clever to be caught red-handed."

"Somebody has to maintain their prefect status."

"That was for the Marauders' benefit."

"Yes… Yes, it was," Remus said fondly. He remembered internally apologizing to Dumbledore and crossing his fingers whenever he got onboard with the mischiefs. "So much for grounding you three down."

Sirius snorted as he propped his head on his hand. "If I recall correctly, most of our brilliant pranks were instigated by you."

"Only some," Remus replied.

"Humble as always." Sirius flicked Remus's arm.

"Somebody had to with you and James around."

Remus half-expected Sirius to complain. Instead, he got an agreeing nod. "You're kind of right about that." His gaze was rather far away when he continued, "James's and Harry's similarities only go as far as their looks. Beyond that, they're almost opposites. I tend to forget that often," he admitted quietly.

"Harry is his father's son, but he's not James," Remus said. "He never will be. Harry is his own amazing person who grew up to a different life, a more difficult one. He's a survivor, Sirius. Like you. He never had it easy like James at that age." He smiled encouragingly at Sirius's downcast expression. "I'm not holding it against you that you see too much of James in Harry." Remus recalled having the same kind of conversation with Harry a few days prior—Harry saw in Sirius a father that he never had. He and Sirius could only see James at each other. There were aspects of it that were concerning, given that they could be both seeing a substitute instead of their individuality. "But never let Harry feel that he's James replacement, because if you do then it might ruin what you two already build," Remus reminded Sirius, giving him the similar advise he told Harry.

"That's not my—" Sirius abruptly flopped down, his forehead hitting Remus's shoulder. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot. I didn't even see it that way," he said, voice muffled.

"Now don't be too hard on yourself." Remus didn't make a move to extricate himself from the position.

"See? This is what I need you for, uncomplicating things for me." Sirius leaned up. "Without you, I would probably make an arse of myself."

"Ah, well, there's no helping that, is there?" Remus murmured dryly.

"Hey!"

"Ow, Sirius!"

"That's for—ouch! You pulled some of the hairs!" Sirius hissed, scratching at his facial hair.

"That's for pinching my arm like a little kid," Remus grumbled.

Sirius glowered at him, returning to his previous task of planting his face on Remus's shoulder.

"You're proving me right by sulking, Sirius."

"Mmm… not sulking."

"What are you doing then?" _Is he smelling me?_

"Padfoot is sniffing you."

"I find that hard to believe without Pad—"

"I'm memorizing your smell."

"Oh, dear. What's with you now?"

"The smell of paint is gone, and you smell like… strawberries?"

Remus cleared his throat, looking away briefly. "What about it?"

Sirius hooked his chin on the shoulder, looking up at Remus, sheepish. "I'll miss this."

Remus glanced down at him, meeting his eyes but not speaking.

"The sleeping thing. So technically, it's our last night sleeping together—literally, I mean." Sirius groaned to himself. "It sounds a lot better in my head. Promise."

"I bet," Remus said absently, mind reeling at Sirius's confession.

Sirius rolled on his back, pulling the covers up to his chest. He appeared to be considering something when he muttered, "Good night, Moony."

It occurred to Remus that this was the first time Sirius said it before him. "Good night, Sirius."

Sirius was already watching him intently when Remus turned to smile, and it was as if the time stopped when they met each other's eyes. Remus could see Sirius's face clearly, all the lines and the stretch of the skin. Remus realized that he could finally see a semblance of the Sirius he knew, handsome and carefree. There was still a long way to go, but he was sure they were on the right path.

Fingers crept on Remus's hand when they looked away in favor of the plain, uninteresting ceiling above, and he knew then that it wasn't just Sirius who needed somebody to lean on and help him get back on his feet.

Remus too.

He laced their fingers timidly until Sirius squeezed tightly in return.

This time, Remus was the one to succumb to sleep first, not letting his physical link with Sirius break.

* * *

Dumbledore arrived with Emrys at exactly nine in the morning.

The Headmaster was there to personally oversee the placing of protection charm. Honestly, Remus expected a flashier display than Emrys standing in the middle of the living room in deep concentration and murmuring a foreign spell.

 _ **Gan bŵer Hen Grefydd, gofynnaf i ti:**_

 _ **Diogelu'r gofod hwn yn erbyn pob drwg**_

 _ **Ac yn wael i'w bobl**_

Remus would have thought it anticlimactic, if not for the sudden sensation of warm air washing over him. At quick glances to Sirius and Harry, it seemed like Remus wasn't the only one who felt it.

"The stronger the bond between the members of the household, the stronger the protection each of you have," Emrys explained. "And when you're under the roof of your home, the protection doubles, but it doesn't lessen outside either. Harry, being the not of age, bears the strongest protection among the three of you, which I think is the most important, isn't it?"

Emrys smiled warmly at Remus and Sirius. Remus expressed his gratitude, seconded by Sirius who shook Emrys's hand formally. Dumbledore was on Harry's side, watching the exchange from the sidelines with twinkling eyes.

Dumbledore seemed to know a great deal on how Emrys could cast a powerful protection charm on the whole household without a wand.

It wasn't long when visitors flooed in once Dumbledore sent a message through the fire. Arthur was the first to come out, followed by Ron and Hermione, then Ginny and the twins, and lastly, Molly.

Housewarming gifts were passed around where they received a blender, a Muggle appliance, from Arthur, who explained that it could also function as an _un_ -blender and would run automatically with a tap of the wand. Molly was rather exasperated that her husband nicked and tinkered another Muggle object. Molly, meanwhile, gave them two vases enchanted to maintain any plant's freshness from when it was first cut. From the twins were innocent-looking ceiling stickers that glow in the dark, but when they were asked what they could actually do, Fred and George admitted that they also serve as an alarm for intruders. Sirius laughed at the thoughtfulness, and may or may not have encouraged them in their pranking endeavors. From Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were cookbooks, albeit preloved books from the first two, which Remus appreciated nonetheless. Emrys brought a DIY bacon kit (which Remus didn't know existed until now) that would help Harry's budding culinary skills (and Sirius and Remus's bacon mania). The last present was from Dumbledore, who brought two bottles of firewhiskeys the adults shared a glass of after meal.

The lunch was quite a merry affair. Dumbledore's huge presence was mellowed and never stifling within the homey space. Emrys, who was only introduced to both Molly and Arthur recently, seemed to hit it off immediately with the Weasley couple. Molly was easily fond of Emrys's polite and charming nature, while Arthur has taken interest at Emrys's Muggle stories growing up to both a wizarding and Muggle household.

"Remus," Emrys said, sliding next to Remus after excusing himself to the Weasleys.

"Hello, Emrys."

He and Remus watched Harry and his friends zip around and how the twins were chased by their young sister. "I wasn't really planning to point it out, but I'm going to either way—it suits you. Family."

Remus didn't comment as warmth flooded his chest. Emrys's observations were usually accurate.

"You and Mister Black are settling well as Harry's legal guardians."

Remus ignored the note in Emrys's voice that suggested an underlying implication. "I suppose so."

Emrys didn't appear to be bummed out, though he laid off, changing the topic. "How's job-hunting? You mentioned on your letter that you were searching."

"No success in the Wizarding world, I'm afraid. I'll be trying my luck on Muggle areas. Preferably near, but I don't have the luxury to be picky."

"I'm in luck then," the younger man said, grinning. "I'm an alumnus of this high school who are in need of instructors recently in mathematics and language. I was tempted to put in a good word for you, but I thought you already found a job. Though now that you said it, I'll be doing just that later." He winked. "Check on it, alright? And—oh, the Wolfsbane will be ready the day after tomorrow. I can deliver it to you personally."

"Wolfsbane?" Remus asked confusedly. He didn't recall asking anything of Emrys about the said potion.

Emrys's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, my. Please don't tell me I ruined a surprise."

 _Surprise? What?_ "I don't understand."

Emrys sighed in defeat. "Might as well tell you if I already spoiled it," he said. He looked around for any listeners, and once satisfied, leaned in to whisper to Remus, "Mister Black and I had a correspondence. He's asking for help in acquiring the potion. He might have express his, uh, disapproval when I suggested that he approach Professor Snape instead since he was the one who used to brew your batch. But that's already taken care of. I have this wonderful colleague of mine who's willing to be hired as a brewer, and she's also experienced in making Wolfsbane after doing a volunteer work in a private organization willing to help werewolves."

Remus was floored. Not too long ago he was convincing Sirius to trust Emrys. "That's… thank you," he said, a little breathless.

"Mister Black deserves all the credits, you know?" Emrys suggested, eyes darting subtly at Sirius's direction.

Sirius, whose attention happened to be on Remus and Emrys, turned quizzical when Remus looked at him gratefully. Sirius smiled back tentatively, raising a glass to Remus.

For a moment, Remus felt two decades younger when he caught a glimpse of a young Sirius Black grinning at him without care in the world.

…

On the first evening at their new home, it was Remus who was troubled with insomnia.

After almost a week of sharing bed with another, he was struggling to get used to sleeping alone when he has been doing just that for most of his life.

Perhaps it wasn't just Sirius who would miss their setup.

Who was he fooling anyway?

Remus was throwing caution in the wind when he stood up after useless toss and turn, thinking that it was either this or loss sleep. And while the latter was tempting, his feet was already moving before he could talk himself out of it.

When he opened his door though, his breath caught in his throat upon seeing Sirius standing there, blinking and very much awake with his fist about to knock.

Since when did Remus beat Sirius first at anything at all?

"Can I come in?" He asked unsurely as if he was scared Remus would decline.

"If I said no, will you leave?" Remus pointlessly asked before he could stop himself.

"Nah," Sirius said with surety this time. "Not really." He asked back, "Will you refuse me?"

"No, not really."

There was an understanding there that went beyond words, and Remus… Remus was fine with that.

Life has its strange ways sometimes.

 _ **end**_


End file.
